


Dawn of Reality

by MarvelgirlOnAMarvelWorld



Series: For Your Sins [2]
Category: Demons and Gods, Loki laufeyson - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies), marvel alternate universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Attempted Kidnapping, Attempted Seduction, Character Reincarnation, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Gore, Implied/Mentions of Pregnancy, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Kidnapping, Like a lot of slowburn between Loki and OC, Mysticism, Past Character Death, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Suicide Attempt, Suicide mentions, black magic, broken loki, character resurrection, major angst, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-01-30 12:17:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 37,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21428098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarvelgirlOnAMarvelWorld/pseuds/MarvelgirlOnAMarvelWorld
Summary: Time has passed by. The world has carried on living and evolving into what it is now. Nyx—as she is known amongst the Avengers—has witnessed such changes firsthand as she’s lived through history itself. Being a creature born to darkness…or a demon as they’re known amongst mortals, enabled her so. Though normalcy seems to begin to change upon the aftermath of a sudden ambush and the arrival of a captured individual, whom she just might have encountered…in a past life.
Relationships: God/Demon, James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Character, James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Female Character, Loki (Marvel)/Original Character(s), Loki (Marvel)/Original Female Character(s), Loki/Dark Elf!Original Female Character, Loki/Demon!Original Female Character, Loki/Original Female Character, Loki/Reader
Series: For Your Sins [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1724131
Comments: 8
Kudos: 104





	1. The Pariah

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a drabble requested. This is the second part to the now series of For Your Sins. I've been re-editing, re-organizing this wip. You can find the first drabble (which constitutes the first part of three) on the first three part of this series.  
Happy reading!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time has passed by. The world has carried on living and evolving into what it is now. Nyx—as she is known amongst the Avengers—has witnessed such changes firsthand as she’s lived through history itself. Being a creature born to darkness…or a demon as they’re known amongst mortals, enabled her so. Though normalcy seems to begin to change upon the aftermath of a sudden ambush and the arrival of a captured individual, whom she just might have encountered...in a past life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am back at it again!!!! Thank you so so much for those who are reading, I appreciate it deeply. The prelude is done and now the story begins!!
> 
> I apologize for any errors that I may have missed while editing. It's been a rough week.

> _Nothing can break the invisible thread between two people who are meant to be together._
> 
>   
_—Unknown_

* * *

  
It all was black. Silent. Barren. It was an endless nothingness where no matter how far out one walked, everything would remain unchanged. An indescribable familiar place where the gray fogs covering the soil would still be there; cooly caressing the bare skin of her feet.

The air was heavy with the ever-familiar whiff of rain; of that familiar dampness left, after the clouds wading through the skies wept their worries away. And slowly the breeze of the void begun to pick up and brushed the figure standing in the middle of nothing. The black locks of her hair waltzed carelessly as they tried to flee with the wind.

Her skin, much like the rings of fire around her gray irises, contrasted with the blackness of the sky and the cloak she wore. The girl of raven hair was a ghost, pale as the snows from the north, delicate like crystals of ice.

“Nyx…!” A voice faintly echoed in the vacuum of space. The pop of gunshots rippled along with it. “Nyx…!”

Her face swiftly turned, searching for the origin of such familiar voice yet she couldn’t pinpoint where it came from. There was no way to tell. The echoes were coming from everywhere.

“Nyx, what’s your status?!” Howled the voice over the background noise of fire.

Her eyes widened and stared up above to the starless void; her glare with red rings within her gray irises twinkled like the only flares beneath the night.

“James…” she recognized his voice. He was calling after her.

“Nyx…” The ground abruptly trembled beneath her. The winds picked up speed. Bucky’s call was taken by the breeze and replaced by sudden whispers drilling her ears:

_For your sins…dawn of reality…guilt…your vanity…trickster…!_

“Agh!” Nyx winced and brought both hands to her head; pressed them against her ears trying to cease the shrill of noise building up. But It was a crescendo of unintelligible gibberish intensifying by the minute.

_Freedom…revenge…monster…she…forget…never…!_

In came the surges of pain. Every word was a hit, a spark that charred her head and every cell, every neuron, as sudden flashes came and went.

The voices whispered, and whispered, and whispered until they stole away her strength. Until Nyx found herself on her knees, head cradled between her palms, eyes closed shut, jaw clenched hard, teeth bared in response to the waves, the incessant pulsing headache that’d come from nowhere.

_Revenge…revenge…revenge…revenge…revenge…revenge…revenge…revenge…!_

“Make it stop, stop, stop!” Her helpless whimpers were carried by the turmoiling winds. Her mind wailed but the whispers claimed dominance. The pain prevailed. “STOP!”

The whispers stopped. As brief as they had come, they were no more. The void was mute again.

So deafeningly quiet, Nyx hadn’t even noticed as she continued on to whimper with eyes closed, and trembling hands still clawing at her ears. For the pain still burned her from the inside out. The headache was still there.

The void was calm again. As foggy as it could be. With no starry witnesses. There was nothing. Only her pale figure, on her knees, with the lightweight of a pendant dangling from her neck. There was some relief found in such a thing.

Her mind was quiet again. And slowly, by some miracle, the headache was becoming nothing but a penitent ghost. Little by little. Yet Nyx did not dare to open her eyes.

_Not yet. Just another second before opening them. Just a little more…just a little bit more time…now._

Like butterflies readying their flight, her eyelids ever so slightly parted. The piercing whiteness of the sudden light burned bright before her weary eyes. It was a stark contrast to the blackness from before, the void was gone somehow.

Her eyes shifted from the light and scowled. She was greeted by cream-colored walls and nothing much but that potent smell hospitals were drowned in; of some sort of cleanliness, death, and medicine. The flavor danced in her tongue and overwhelmed her nose.

Slowly, and still feeling drowsy by a distant pulsing in the depths of her head, Nyx raised and sat on the very much uncomfortable medical bed. Somehow her entire body had acquired the weight of the world. And her eyes, barely open, stared to her lap as she breathed in, growing enough will and strength to move over her legs and stand.

And the heaviness of silence wasn’t helping much. In fact, it distracted her. Nyx could not concentrate over the deafening silence mantling the room. It was as worst as the piercing whispers from…from who? Nyx was none the wiser.

She couldn’t think of a reason for her waking up inside what seemed to be a medical room and not be with…with the team…following coordinates leading to HYDRA links in rural Europe…that was her last mission…that was what she was doing before, but…something went wrong.

Yet she couldn’t remember anything concrete with the exception of…of a pair of eyes…yes. A pair of eyes. But that was not all.

Nyx’s eyes opened wide, her throat dried. Adrenaline rushed in a panic through her veins. In no time her mind awoke at a flashing thought. “It was an ambush.”

No, no, no, no, the mission had gone bad!

_And this place…whatever this place was, what if it belonged to the enemy?_ She thought.

She had to get out.

Nyx dragged her legs until they dangled in the air, almost ghosting over the floor, and gripped the edge of the bed. The motion, although small, made her head swirl just as it made the headache ghost over again.

“Ugh,” she groaned and blinked. With a frown plastered on her face, she pushed herself to stand, but upon contact with the cold tiles, her footing betrayed her and almost fell.

“Woah! Not so fast there,” a hand gripped Nyx’s shoulder, gently yet firmly. The touch was ever-familiar. Electric.

And the voice…the voice belonged to no other than the one who called to her inside the void. Such timbre showered her with relief and lifted the sudden rush of distress. For she wasn’t in any danger at all. Her suppositions were false.

Like a curious child, her eyes wandered from a torso enveloped in leather, to contrasting broad shoulders where leather and metal drew an inconspicuous frontier until her eyes met shards of ice. The stern yet gentle facade of the super-soldier drew from her a half-smile. Without a thought, Nyx complied with his passive command.

“James,” his name dripped from her lips and left a sweet sting. “It’s you.”

Bucky gazed down to her, a smile almost coming out hiding from beneath his serious mask. His hold on her shoulder lingered but let go of her when Nyx sat back. Again he stood beside his long-time friend, who’d been standing there in silence.

“How are you feeling?” Steve gazed down at Nyx.

Nyx blinked and breathed in. “I’m fine…” her brows creased in thought, “a little dizzy and a small headache…” there was a beat of silence as she glanced over to both super soldiers. “Steve, the mission…it was an ambush.”

“Yes,” the golden boy said. “You were right.”

Nyx slowly nodded. “I was…” her voice trailed off as she gazed into Steve’s eyes, in the search for a memory of the past unfolding of events. After all, his eyes were gates to all his memories; especially his soul. Luckily, she was able to find a memory in no time.

Right away flashes of what she was looking for were displayed to her as she peeked inside his memories…

_The echo of gunshots rippled and disrupted what once was a deserted European field with the unmistakable cry of battle. Bullets came from all angles. Like lasers burning through matter they came and went; more from the enemy than the heroes themselves._

_Men in black were all on sight and continued to appear from a source unknown to any of the Avengers, who were now fighting as they tried not to drown from such a surprise onslaught._

_Unfortunately, the heroes had not the upper hand._

_Steve could do nothing but shield himself and rely on Bucky at times. For he had not a weapon in hand and rather attempted to near the men and attack fist to fist. After all his style was more hand to hand combat._

_His eyes darted to his surroundings but found none of his teammates. Only Bucky. “Romanoff, status!”_

_“They’re too many!” Barked Romanoff through coms, who was several feet away, surrounded by men as she relied on her guns and agility to avoid the shots. “I’m surrounded!”_

_“Tony, how many are there?!” Said Barton as he shot his penultimate arrow._

_“Far too many!” Was the Iron Man’s sardonic response, who blasted his projectiles from a football field away. “Would you believe me if I said forty and counting?”_

_A strike of lightning struck ground along with a number of men from the enemy lines. Their charred bodies dropped like dead weight fuming with the horrid scent of burnt flesh. Thor stood among them before rushing to fight alongside Barton whose last arrow had just been shot._

_“Twenty-nine and counting!” Tony chided. “Where the hell are they coming from?!”_

_“Where’s Nyx anyway?!”_

_Steve sparred beside Bucky as he grew frustrated by the endless waves of attack. He spun in sync with his pal, flinging his shield as it ricocheted against shooting men and returned to his arm just as the other soldier shot and used his metal arm to punch one of the guys that’d gotten far too close. Though as they fought, their eyes were caught by pillars of black clouds coming from the ground, and their ears were stung by a chorus of screams._

_“The hell…” Bucky muttered._

_In the distance, both soldiers saw men falling dead._

_“Here she comes!” Tony said through coms._

_All men slowed their actions as they were caught in awe at the levitating figure whose cloak ruffled against the coming winds just like her hair did. A silhouette of black wings formed behind her as she descended and faded just as the black pillars impaled every moving figure…_

“We were led to a trap,” Steve’s voice registered in Nyx’s head. In a blink, the memory faded. “We were all separated and there was no response from you.”

“We gained the upper hand, thanks to you,” Bucky remarked. “We reunited until the end, but you were out cold,” Bucky crossed his arms and tilted his head.

“That explains a lot,” she said.

“But we got the perp that knocked you out,” Bucky added. Though at the corner of his mouth, his lips tugged and formed a sly smirk. “The idiot wasn’t looking so well, right Steve?”

“Yeah,” Steve nodded, “you gave him a good fight.”

“Nyx, you kicked his ass.”

Nyx only nodded to the super soldiers’ remark and hummed in agreement.

And she couldn’t help but wonder if it had been that unknown someone with green eyes the one they’d caught. Making memory now, those eyes were tainted in horror as if they’d seen a ghost.

“Where is he now?” She wondered.

“He should be arriving here shortly,” Steve said.

Nyx parted her lips and was about to speak when the doors to the medical wing opened. All their attention was drawn to the familiar presence of a Norse god; Thor, as a matter of fact.

His blond mane and broad shoulders swaying left and right—from which a crimson cape cascaded down—were the tale-teller signs of his high ranks. The grimace and shadows cast over his face, however, were not his usual facade; lest to mention that piercing glare. Tension visibly weighed down on him as he approached the three.

Thor stood before the three and acknowledged both soldiers with a nod as he faced Nyx. There was a beat of silence as his troubled eyes held her crimson gaze.  
Nyx could sense his mind to be a tempest. Something was haunting the god. Nevertheless, Nyx had a feeling she was about to find out what it was.

“Pardon me to barge in,” Thor began, his voice tainted in equal authority and helplessness. “I am aware you ought to be resting, but…” His words faded. The sentence was left incomplete as he searched for the correct words and coherence, though more importantly, for confidence to ask a favor to the girl sitting before him.

Nyx tilted her head and softened her features. “What is it, Thor?”

“I am requesting your assistance,” Thor sighed after letting the words leave his mouth, “as I trust your magical abilities far more than Stark’s technology.”

Nyx arched her brows, slightly aghast—and more than curious as a matter of fact—at Thor’s request. She was flattered by it. “What can I do?”

Thor glanced at both soldiers and parted his lips before he glanced at Nyx again. “I need you to enchant something. To fortify a cell. Make it as resistant even the most skilled sorcerer is unable to break free from it.”

“I…of course,” Nyx said as she nodded and slowly stood to test her balance. The request came to her as a surprise.

“Very well,” Thor nodded and approached the girl to aid her at the same time Bucky did.

“I can walk,” Nyx chuckled awkwardly. “It’s only my head that hurts, my legs are fine.”

“Of course,” Thor muttered and smiled as he stepped back. Barnes followed suit.

“Okay, SHIELD will be here any minute now, the faster you reinforce that cell, the better,” Steve remarked with shield in hand. “In the meantime, I’ll have Loki be held some place else until Nyx is done.”

Loki. At last, the individual that’d caused so much fluster in less than a day had a name. On the other hand, his name, although it resonated with Nyx, she could not find a meaning to it as other names did. Thus, she continued on to wonder about the seemingly skilled sorcerer whom she had an encounter with, but remained in animosity to her.

“Let's go.”

Gray tiles and matte glass welcomed Nyx and made her brows furrow. For the familiar stone flooring and metallic arrays from the tower were gone. “Are we at the compound?”

Bucky hummed in response as he walked beside her; Thor and Steve trailed behind and conversed between themselves. “Steve’d rather have any individuals we question as far away from population. There’s less risk of civilian casualties if something were to happen.”

“Smart,” was all Nyx said before she fell silent and glanced to all around with crimson curious eyes. Unaware of the Soldat's gaze on her as they reached the end of the hall and a new one ran adjacent to it.

“Alright,” Steve spoke as the four slowed their pace and came to a halt, “Bucky and I have to head somewhere else. We’ll meet you in the debriefing room.”

“Very well,” Thor nodded as the two super soldiers said farewell and walked away.

“Let's go,” Nyx half-smiled, in the hopes to lift a little of the grimness showing in Thor and walked along with him in the opposite way. Thor said nay.

Silence settled between the pair and only their footsteps rippled noise. Sunlight failed to fully penetrate through the matte glass, yet the sun still managed to illuminate inside. The hue, though, less sharp and warm but just as bright. The atmosphere was different, heavy…perhaps it was the fact that there seemed to be less staff here, therefore, less energy than at the tower. Perhaps it was that.

Or perhaps it was Nyx still sensing Thor’s somberness; however, she wasn’t daring to ask. It was better to not poke around, even if all she desired was to help her friend somehow.

Though a spark of restlessness and anger mellowed along. It was sudden, a drastic change even in temperature. Unnoticeable to Thor, but rather obvious to the pale girl.

Goosebumps rippled along her spine as a soft frown painted her features at the sound of a crescendo of footsteps. Her eyes were drawn to a group of SHIELD agents—six to be specific—up ahead who marched towards them in a formation. Guns locked and loaded, fingers gently laid on the trigger. Their eyes unaware, or rather, uncaringly staring ahead.

Nyx and Thor strode closer. One, with curious eyes peering at the men who seemed to cover something or someone, the other, staring down to the tiles. And as they neared closer, the silhouette of a tall figure registered in the middle. The hint of green fabric and gold stood out among the blackness of the agents' uniforms. Until at last, a face registered completely in her eyes.

Marble skin, disrupted by the faint crimson color of light wounds and the dark purple of contusions. Sunken cheekbones, alluding to having been chiseled along with a tense jaw. And Green. Green eyes like raw emerald stones still meshed in untreated rock. The same eyes she last saw before it all went dark.

This time, however, they glared daggers at her as she passed him by. And as if their sharpness had a physical effect on her, Nyx winced.

“Agh!” A sudden wave of pain struck her and leaned against Thor weakly, hands clutching the side of her head.

“Nyx!” Thor cried out, his grip on her upper arms maintained her on her feet.

“I…I’m alright…” she mumbled and pouted at the feeling of having a burning brass pressed on her brain, “I’m alright…I just…I just need to keep my eyes closed for moment…”

Darkness hugged her sight dearly and soothed her. Nyx wished she could stay that way, cuddled by darkness. Yet she was aware there were other matters to take care of. Thus, although the pain was still ever-present, she opened her eyes and stood upright.

To her amazement, however, she found herself not in the hallway of the compound, but inside a marble space with a golden barrier overlooking similar rooms. And Thor was not beside her anymore.

With her brows creased, Nyx slowly spun as objects registered on sight. A delicate table made of dark wood and gold stood on the far corner, leathered books lay scattered all around with unintelligible symbols. Though as she glimpsed to her left, Nyx froze as the same man, a younger version of him as a matter of fact, that’d she’d seen just a moment back, sat on a cot.

All tension eased away from her body at the realization this was a memory. One she was not the owner of…

_He was just as pale if not more. He was a ghost, or perhaps it was the glare of the lights against the bright white of the walls that made him seem like one. Or the dark circles that engulfed the hue of the skin around his eyes. Nonetheless, the raven-haired seemed a ghost whose expression was unreadable._

_There was no anger reflected in his face, but neither was joy displayed. His serious semblance was a cloud. Perhaps the raven-haired was deeply concentrated on the book laying open on his lap._

_A dark, murky, garment that seemed to have been torn to shreds by savage animals, at the sleeves and end of his trousers, clothed his body. Rosy, long scars were painted in permanence along the inside of his arms; starting from his wrist and traced vertically._

_The stillness inside the white cell, though, was disrupted by the distant echo of commotion. His eyes turned with dying hope to the golden barrier before they drifted back to the book on his lap._

_There was no way out. He was aware. Whoever was attempting it was a fool whose head would soon be laid before the golden stairs to the throne._

_The roars and crashes of metal grew louder and closer, yet he paid no mind to them and focused on his reading. He didn’t even flinch when the golden barrier keeping him inside was being hit and rattled by a slender figure._

_It was until the sizzling noise of the barrier crumbling had grown obnoxiously loud that the prisoner glared back. To his surprise, the yellow hue of it was no more. The barrier was gone._

_His heart froze. His breath caught in his chest._

_On the other side stood the figure that’d torn it apart. A lean figure, much paler than he was, clothed in leather and metal, with a long white mane intricately braided and styled, and a pair of black scleras and metallic irises who stared at him with sheer malice. The grim smirk on her lips stole a shiver away from him._

_“Ava,” he called out to the figure as he closed the book and placed it aside. No emotion was displayed from his part._

_“It is a pleasure to finally meet you, fine prince of chaos,” her words were tarnished with poise as she entered the cell and stood before him and extended her hand. “Today is not the dawn but the rise of a new reality for you, pariah, and I.”_

_There was a beat of silence as he stared at her hand and up until their eyes met. The noise of riot echoed in the backdrop and fed his eyes with a twinkle of revenge. And little by little his lips curved into an equal venomous grin and reached out to grasp her hand without a second thought._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! And I would also like to take a moment to thank and give rightful credit to someone who I consider a friend from Tumblr, @theworldshesaw, who was the one who brought the idea from which I am basing myself to write this story. I hope I am doing it justice.
> 
> Stay safe out there everybody!


	2. Face of an Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guilt weighs down heavily on Thor's shoulders after Loki's sudden encounter with Nyx in the hall, for he suspects the trickster might have done something to her to harm her. Little does he know, that is not the case. Alas, they carry on to reinforce the cell where Loki will be held, and we, the readers, get a glimpse of Nyx's abilities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two is here! I’m more than excited to write this story :D thank you for reading! And please please I’d love to know what you think of this story.  
Again I apologize for any errors I missed, which in all honesty, there might be a ton.
> 
> Happy reading!

Guilt was bittersweet. Like acid, it seeped through old wounds which somehow…some had opened just as new ones had been made. Like morphine, it numbed and crumbled away all that was once well. In less than a day, it all was a catastrophe.

Thor was there, attempting to mend and rather cover it all up before it was too late, yet…he was not _there_. His tangible form was there, taking up space. But his mind…his mind was lost in a haze.

And due to it, he found himself regretting not fully analyzing his brilliant idea to seek Nyx for help. As it was, he had only drawn her too close to the fire. Now Nyx was in pain. As if things couldn’t get any worse…he should’ve known he couldn't implicate others. The trickster’s presence doomed havoc.

Not a soul would be safe without an intervention. His intervention and only his.

Whatever had _he_ done to Nyx? Thor wondered angrily, cursing internally at the trickster, as he let Nyx lean into him for support.

_Ugh,_ that bloodless trickster. Not much had changed after _the_ event. Yet he was indeed changed in a way.

“You’re going back to the medical wing,” Thor made up his mind. His mind, as it was, was turned upside down enough to carry the weight of knowing a friend had been hurt. Alas, he motioned back—gently serving as aid for Nyx—the way they had come. He had to deal with the chaotic individual himself.

“No no! It’s alright…” Nyx raised her head—blinking as all the lights transitioned from a bright white to a mellow yellow—and ceased her trail. The memory, she had not sought out, but still witnessed, faded from her eyes—but not her memory.“I’m fine. It…it doesn’t hurt anymore.”

Thor stopped his stride, broad shoulders tensed under the silver of his armor, eyes locked with her crimson stare; holding it as much as he could although it made him uneasy. What she reflected, not weariness, no ill intentions, made Thor drop the mask. His eyes had no more crystal authority but a somber grimace of grief.

But he was not willing to relent to her good intentions.

“It’s not alright….” Thor avoided her frown, racking his frazzled mind for an excuse to leave Nyx out. “I am so sorry to have forced you out of rest when you clearly needed it. And now my broth…” he bit his tongue and sighed, "Loki harmed you…I was inconsiderate. I’ll just let Stark reinforce the cell.”

Nyx pursed her lips and furrowed her brows. If the blond only knew it hadn't been Loki who necessarily did something to her, but rather herself who had unconsciously meddled with his psyche. After all, she had been wondering about the individual’s animosity. Yet she kept that detail to herself.

“It’s fine, Thor. I’m fine” she assured and reached to gently touch his arm and draw his attention. Her lips tugged a gentle smile as their eyes met. Ever so slightly her pupils dilated and assured again in a soft tone: “_It’s fine_. _I’m fine.”_

Thor gazed into her eyes, feeling drawn to her subtle assurance, not wanting to look away even if he deep down desired. Her eyes were just compelling.

He pursed his lips and breathed in before he blinked abruptly, realizing what she was doing. But he was just strong enough to pull away from her tugs. She too was a silver-tongue. “Alright,” he scowled. “But the moment the pain comes back or if I see you’re in any discomfort, you will head straight to rest. I will make sure of it.”

His features spoke hardship and authority beneath the slight thrall Nyx had succumbed him to. No refusals or objections, but the acceptance and carry out of his statement. But his eyes, as slightly dilated as hers in a trance, his eyes contradicted his pretense with the humble flicker of empathy in them. Thor meant well.

Thor was not as subjective to her _persuasive_ ways as Nyx had once imagined. Now she was fully aware of it.

“Fine,” Nyx hand-gestured, deep down glad to have gotten her way, and more than aware she was going to have to stifle her discomfort if the headache came again. Though she doubted it would, considering the reasons it surfaced in the first place. But she did question it as odd to have experienced such high degree of pain.

“Good,” Thor agreed, and stood aside, silently signaling Nyx to take the lead and walk.

Nyx nudged all her thoughts aside and walked alongside Thor. His sorrowful gaze turned to her at times, Nyx only glanced back with a comforting smile. Though to her relief, or rather concern, he soon drowned himself again in his woes and thoughts and said nothing more. He dwelled again, drowned himself even deeper with the violent current of his coming and going notions.

And curiosity made itself present in the form of an intrusive whisper, murmuring to her...to go on and peek. Just a peek into his head…but it was wrong! Nyx bit down her tongue and internally reprimanded herself for such an intrusive desire, and rather said to herself: if Thor was willing, he would speak to her of his worries.

Alas, they reached the end of the hall where the main elevator was. In silence, both stepped inside. The soft click of the button to the underground levels echoed dimly, being pressed by the god whose hand soon fell on his side like dead weight.

Nyx drummed her fingers on her thigh and waited. Thor stared down to his feet, still lost. Though their reflections stood before them from the glossy metal walls of the cage and kept them company briefly until the soft ding chirped inside and the doors slid.

In no time the two were welcomed by a solitary hall. Closed doors were alongside the walls and passed them by as they carried on in the same manner they had come. The atmosphere was grim as it was, heavy, infested by bad energy. By pain. More so than what Nyx perceived from Thor.

Being a creature of darkness, Nyx was bound to be drawn to such stagnant climates. After all, demons fed and strived from such things; however, that was not the case. Deep down a shudder ran down her bones and she couldn’t help but imagine scenarios that could have left such imprint there. She suspected the underground was used for more than just a holding place for prisoners or questioning space.

Thor stopped by one of the metal doors and placed his thumb on the panel beside it. The door slid with a dry whoosh allowing light from the hall to peek inside the penumbra before both stepped in.

Nyx was stunned to find barren space, where only their footsteps danced and ricocheted against the walls. It was empty. There was nothing. And the only light inside merely concentrated in the middle of the room and did very little to illuminate fully. Though as they stepped closer, the silhouette of what seemed an actual transparent cell registered before them. It was the only something out of all the empty.

And she couldn’t help but remember the glass cage SHIELD had designed for the Hulk; though kept a secret from the doctor himself, but made aware to the others. All made of glass. A cage. It was an exact replica of it.

Nyx stood beside the god, contemplating in silence the crystal cradle a few feet from them, but was drawn away by Thor’s voice:

“I did not say this before,” Thor uttered in a low tone, almost as if speaking aloud would cause any other upheaval, “but I’d like to say that I am grateful for your help, Nyx.”

Nyx nodded in response, mustering yet another smile towards the troubled god. “It’s no problem.”

Again Thor turned to face the cell. There was a beat of silence where only the soft thump of their hearts echoed in their heads.

“I thought he had died,” Thor confessed abruptly, his eyes never darting from the cell but growing glassy by the minute. “We all did.”

Nyx said nay and only listened to Thor. She sensed this was what was eating him away. He was mourning…but who? Loki? If so, why him?

“A long time ago, a riot broke out in our dungeons,” he confessed, jaw clenched, eyes glossy and still lost in a distant memory. “The outcome was bloody…his cell…his cell was destroyed. There was blood everywhere…”

The memory Nyx had witnessed played over again in her mind. Yet she kept it to herself the knowledge Loki had not died but escaped. She continued to wonder why Thor’s emotional investment on a prisoner. It just didn’t make sense. Nothing did. Perhaps Thor was yet to tell the tale entirely…

“Deep down, I confess,” Thor lowered his head and swallowed the prickling lump, “I was glad he was dead.”

Nyx’s eyes widened and felt her throat dry at Thor’s words. Her lips parted but all the words had vanished from her. It took her a brief moment, as she searched his face, to find the right words to say. “That is a heavy confession to make out loud, Thor.”

“I know,” he raised his head and sniffed as his fingers combed through his hair. His tongue felt heavy from speaking his twisted truth. “But I knew, with his death…at last, would all his sufferings cease to torment him. And perhaps, he would have finally have laid to rest in paradise with…” Thor didn’t allow himself to finish the sentence and only permitted himself to lower his head again.

Nyx only nodded in understanding and looked down at her feet as well. The reasons behind his confession were moving. “Sounds to me like you knew him well.”

“I did…once. I doubt I do so anymore,” his voice was nostalgic, tight. “He’s changed from what I’ve seen. He’s…dangerous, for a lack of a better word,” there was a beat of silence as Thor reflected over the past events before he glanced at Nyx again. “That’s why I reached to you. You have demonstrated to be as powerful as us, as him.”

Nyx glanced at Thor with pursed lips and nodded after a brief pause before she left his side and prowled around the cell. Her eyes wandering to every detail they could find and store in her mind. Her cold hands sensing the gray matter around, feeling her fingertips itch eagerly to call onto the dark; where she belonged.

Gracefully she stepped inside from the right side and stood in the middle of the crystal cage. Nyx was ready to act. Thor only stood and witnessed with the same angry expression of authority.

To have a single witness made no difference to her as she closed her eyes.

A so familiar warmth scurried through her arms. And that side, that small piece of evil that still poisoned a portion of her lifeless heart took dominance above the good that’d grown and prevailed in her. It was that side that would never leave her, regardless of how many good deeds she did.

“_Abyssus abyssum invocat…_” her voice was a hushed whisper, heavy, as the words, spoken in a dead language, left her mouth and prevailed inside the cell. _“Corruptus in extremis_. _A capite ad calcem._”

To Thor, who stood before the girl on the other side, was able to hear with clarity her litany—thanks to his godly hearing. The words registering but possessing no meaning to him for he couldn’t understand them. It was a language he had never known, nor had he heard at all.

And if he had not felt the heaviness clinging in the air before, now did he feel the heavy oppression on his chest, asphyxiating him, making itself present in the form of cool beads of sweat lingering at the back of his neck.

Right away was his fright tested as the Norse god stepped back, swallowing the nerves, as he witnessed sudden black thin lines appear, like tiny little veins, on Nyx’s face. His blood froze at the bizarre sighting.

No longer was her face that of an angel, as he’d once described her, but a contorted version of it. Yet against his unease, Thor grounded himself and continued on to observe a black trail form at her feet; a circle caging her in.

“_Et accipere virtutem tuam,_” Nyx extended her arms, her feet ceased to touch the cell floor, and her body lifted and levitated as if she had the weight of a feather. “_Stet…_”

Words still dripped away from her mouth, each heavier than the last. And slowly, Thor witnessed as more symbols, tar-black like the darkest night, took shape outside of the circle and a five-point star formed inside. Still, Thor witnessed the intimidating ritual with a tense jaw, with the pulsing of his heart bothering him, chocking him.

Though slowly, Nyx descended back with the grace of an angel and stood inside the circle. The marking veins on her face still remained as she pronounced her last words and opened her eyes:

“_Consummatum est._”

Thor gulped and fisted his sweaty hands as their eyes met. Black scleras and ruby irises bore down on him for the longest minute—the markings on her face, beginning to fade, her skin once again turning lustrous. So too did her eyes turn once again to the normal white in the backdrop of piercing red. Her face of an angel.

The transition to normal eased his nerves. He’d never grown accustomed to seeing such grim change, from the purity she resembled, to what she truly was.

Nyx stepped out of the cage and sauntered back to Thor, standing in front of him as she beamed, the sweetest contrast to the evil she’d demonstrated just a minute back. Thor was aghast and found no words to muster at all as her eyes once again reflected that softness and friendliness everyone had grown accustomed to seeing. “It’s done. One less thing to worry about.”

Quietly the two turned and headed for the door, but not without Thor giving a last glimpse to the crystal cage’s floor, only to find there to be nothing. The symbols, whatever they were, they were gone.

-

Thor and Nyx walked into the briefing room. In an instant, all six pairs of eyes were glued on them as the room fell silent. They all stood around the center of the room, where a holographic screen displayed, on one side, camera footage to what appeared to be several angles of the cell the two had just been in, and on the other, information and a mugshot of Loki.

“Quite a show you gave back there, little demon,” Tony snickered playfully, trying to dissipate the tension that built in the room. “Were you summoning more of your monster friends?”

Nyx chuckled and rolled her eyes, nearing the others and standing in front of the screen, “No. I don’t need to.”

She was about to speak and ask what was to be done next when her eyes were attracted to a familiar figure that’d appeared on camera, as he was being placed inside the cell.

Tony and Clint began to talk in the backdrop, perhaps about what was going to be done, though Nyx could not tell. She was too immersed in the figure on the screen, who stood for a moment, staring out into the surrounding darkness of the room, before he began to pace—tense shoulders, fisted hands, a grimace shadowing his face with…it wasn’t anger or annoyance reflected…but rather something Nyx could not fully get a grasp on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, well, well. It appears our dear blond god is trying to hide the fact he knows Loki, on a much deeper level, from the others. Would look at that. And Nyx has kept now a secret from Thor.
> 
> *I'm happy to say we will have a more Loki centered chapter up next. Though I am not sure when I will finish that chapter as I am trying to focus next on working on some request sent through my tumblr which have been sitting there for a whole month now*


	3. Saudade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki's been taken into custody. He might or might not have voluntarily let himself be caught. Or perhaps it was the shock that paralyzed him--after seeing someone whom he once thought was dead-- which gave the Avengers the chance. Once again he dwells in the past that seems to have not left him over a century.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back at it again after ghosting for over a week. I am so so sooooo happy to know you guys are liking this story! Your comments are everything to me <3

> _Feelings are just fleeting on the surface. But emotions, they’re very deep, primal; they linger._
> 
> _— Phillip Noyce_

  
It was all a bizarre irony. Everything, somehow, seemed the altered repetition of a tale that’d already come to an end. It’d been rather too quick the fall after becoming a free pariah. Over a century or so. Perhaps more, perhaps less.

Yet again Loki found himself locked in a cell; this time made of glass, instead of lustrous marble like the last one. And he found himself in the company of another man, his reflection; who mimicked and stood before him as he grew dazed.

He hadn’t seen himself in so long. Evidently, he had lost some weight, although his physique was still well-built. Still eminent, still intimidating. But when was the last time he had a decent meal? Was this really his appearance? All somber? All just a broken shell glued together by fury and no other emotion? When was the last time he had strolled without a care as the sun kissed his face?!

To hell with his meager appearance! All Loki could think about was the field where he had stumbled upon her again! And how they crossed paths in the hall! Twice! In a day!

And again those emotions he’d grown to abhor devastated him to no end. He had thought of them dead, he had thought his wounds had healed well, but that was not the case. Loki was mistaken. His wounds were raw open and stung upon the sour touch of what seemed a nightmare he wanted to run towards as much he wanted to run away from.

Loki was livid, cold, and stared through his reflection to the still outside of the crystal cell—where darkness lurked around him but dared not to approach him. The silhouette of his lover flashed in his memory as he’d glimpsed her, untouched, her beauty frozen in time.

Her skin, smooth like the finest silk. Her eyes, two diamonds where rubies were incrusted. Her smile, so wickedly beautiful. And those dimples…oh, how he wished he could kiss. Her hands, like those of a porcelain doll, gentle against his calloused touch….

Her image was faint in his head. So long had passed, those were the only fragments he cared to remember. The only details he thought were enough to…to carry on as he pushed her memory far into the shadows of his mind.

“Rúna,” her name left his mouth as on its place was left a sour sting. He hadn’t said that name in over a century. And he couldn't help but try to imagine her sweet voice calling out to him, but…he could not hear her.

_Her voice...how did she sound again?_

_ Soft, like the gentle brush of the breeze against his cheek? Silvery, light and pleasant like birds of dawn? Or honeyed, beautiful yet deceitful? How did she sound?_

Loki could not recall. And he cursed himself for forgetting.

_But perhaps,_ he thought, _her voice had been a mixture. Yes. A mixture of all three._

His eyes welled and prickled for the tears to fall and leave a trail. A pained grimace almost overcame Loki’s features, but instead, he swallowed his desire to break and stood upright and masked it all.

There was a heaviness in his chest, a burning sensation of vulnerability, a weight on his body to crumble like a house of cards. But there was no time to break. To fall. _This_ was no place to break. He’d been left isolated, but not unwatched. He was aware of the cameras and eyes gawking at him through them. He could not mourn in this place, not now, not ever. If he had not in the past, he could not permit himself to do so now. Thus, he only fisted his hands, dug his nails deep on his flesh, as he began to pace with his head hung low. As he pretended to be well, and not broken from the ages.

And with a heavy heart, Loki wondered: _How? How could Rúna be walking amongst the living?! She was dead, I had seen her lifeless! I held her body! Yet she seemed undeniably the same, her, yet…something was missing._

Loki tilted his head, eyes drilling holes at the floor and clasped his hands behind his back. The faint echo of his soles disrupted the horrendous silence inside his cell as it dawned on him, like a bucket of boiling water poured onto him, what was missing:

_Her wings. She had not her wings._

_Oh, my fallen angel_…_Odin took them away from you..._Loki swallowed the suffocating lump and sighed shakily. The sting on his palms as his nails dug distracted him just enough. He kept on pacing, thinking, theorizing, attempting to understand. How?!

_How?! How could she be alive?!_

A frown stalked Loki’s features as he ceased pacing and stood in the middle of the cell. His jaw ticked. His eyes wandered around until they landed their focus on the grim nothingness outside the cell.

_Unless…she was not alive. But was rather an illusion. An illusion cast by somebody else…a witch._

His nostrils flared and struggled to suppress the boiling rage building up like a pyre inside his heart. The conclusion scorched him more than it comforted him. Rúna was, indeed, dead.

All along it had been a witch. Bold of them to play such a dirty trick. They would pay dearly for that. Loki pledged to raise Hel for their games.

Again tears burned in his eyes. His blood boiled raw as it coursed through his veins at the thought he had almost fallen for it. Deep down he had…hoped. Some little whisper tricked him to. How _stupid_.

_But how could this witch have known about her?_ Loki began to pace again, jaw clenched. _After all, Rúna was my secret well kept. Our romance was hidden among the Asgardian valleys, deep into the green forests and crystal waterfalls. Neither the court nor the king knew of her. Only the queen, and…_

“Thor,” Loki snarled. Oh, that bastard.

“Fury,” a voice spoke, casual and equally authoritarian.

With ease, as he pushed in the deepest corner of his soul his sudden desire to clamor revenge, Loki turned to face a man whose demeanor challenged his own. Wearing all black as if to disguise himself with the surrounding dark, and a black patch covering his left eye while the other stared back with scrutiny.

His insides revolted as the image of Odin flashed like a ghost on his face. That man had a strange yet hateful similarity to the spiteful Allfather.

“Nick Fury,” the man remarked with his hands behind his back. “And I’m afraid the other god can’t join us right now.”

”Nick Fury,” Loki repeated spitefully. A hateful grin pulled his lips. An idea lurked within his mind as he studied the man. ”What brings you here? Please indulge me, did cowardice ushered Thor to send you instead to confront me?”

”No, ” he said nonchalantly. There was no lie hidden. ”Now, if you will, I will cut right to the chase so to not…_waste _each other’s time…”

“A busy man, I see,” Loki interrupted and grinned.

The man nodded and exhaled as he fixed his posture. ”As a matter of fact, yes. Now I will ask you a series of questions...”

”An interrogation, ” Loki acknowledge the situation as he paced and drifted his amusement to the white lights. Perhaps he could use the man, Fury, to reach Thor and the witch. ”I suppose this to be procedure? Mind you, you are wasting your time.”

“As a matter of fact, this becomes procedure when somebody like you decides to wreak havoc on my jurisdiction, ” Fury emphasized. ”Now I want to know who are you and what are you doing here on my planet?”

“Somebody _like_ me?” There was a fleeting blink of playful astonishment on Loki as he faced the man on the other side of the glass. An airy chuckle ruffled in the air. “Nick Fury, there are no people _like_ me,” Loki found the man rather amusing yet an intrusive nuisance. However, he had dealt with nuisances like him in the past. He knew the best way to handle Fury. “And didn’t that _god_ not tell you who I am?”

Loki stalked around the cell without a care to give, and a million ponders building up in his head. For it seemed, Thor had not spoken of him to these people. All of a sudden had his brother become so secretive when he used to be so open.

“Did he not tell you anything at all?”

“Thor’s spoken to me,” Fury declared as calm as he could muster. Loki was testing his patience. “But I want to corroborate the facts.”

_The facts, oh, however many facts could he bring up to light_, Loki thought. _There were so many, that one-eyed would have to go back and forth between Thor and I to keep up._

“Why trust the word of a criminal, Nick Fury?” Loki marveled and smirked as he stood in the middle of the cell. Regardless of his current situation and lack of advantage, going round in circles with rhetorics and endless questions to avoid the actual questions had its fun side. Even more, when a scheme to get his way lurked within every of Loki’s responses. “Do you truly believe one of your men to be liars? Why not just take their word for it?”

“I trust my men…”

“How righteous of you to do so,” Loki scoffed. He could sense Fury’s breaking point was just a vacillate response away.

“However, there is a system,” Fury glared at Loki, his teeth clenched. “Although you wouldn’t know that since where you and he come from, things are still practiced medieval era style.”

Loki made a face, he hadn’t seen that fascinating low blow coming. But his pride was intact from such comeback. If that fool only knew he was facing someone who did not belong to Asgard. Yet he couldn’t help to imagine such comment striking that oaf’s pride. Oh, how offended he’d be! Ha!

“Now, will you please answer the questions!” Fury mandated.

“Bring her to me then, and perhaps I will,” Loki deadpanned, head raised filled with pride and a grin overcoming his face. It was time to act.

A sour look of annoyance and confusion tainted the former head of SHIELD as he stared at Loki exasperatedly. “Bring who?”

Without answering, Loki turned to his left. His eyes caught the lens of the camera that’d been installed on the ceiling corner and grinned. His insides twisted and turned in expectance and renewed anger. “Her.”

Meanwhile, inside the briefing room, all the avengers surrounded the holographic screen where they witnessed the chaotic display. An equal shadow of confusion sat on their faces with the exception of two:

The first, Thor. Thor’s pale face was a poem as he shook his head, already opposed to his defunct brother’s proposition.

And the second, Nyx. Confusion and dread clawed at her flesh. A sinking feeling made her insides twist. For she had the bizarre feeling Loki was not asking Fury nor directing his demands to him, but rather declaring them to her. His words carrying weight she could very much sense even through the screen.

“Bring me the witch,” he declared. **“I will only answer to her.”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, Loki's made up his mind about Nyx. Loki's hurt. He has a tunnel vision. Whatever he proposes he will carry out. But will he ever believe Nyx to be who he had hoped she was? Is Nyx truly who he had thought prior to his conclusion?
> 
> *I appreciate your comments! Things might be confusing now, but I promise and hope as the story unfolds, things will start to make sense.*


	4. Heart of a Ghost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is it, guys! Nyx and Loki finally meet. However, things go downhill in no time. And it appears, our dear Demon!OC is already close to someone...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back with a pretty lengthy chapter, yay! Thanks, again, for commenting and leaving kudos! You guys have no idea how much it means to me. Thank you <3
> 
> Anyway, this is one of the chapters that I had to stop for a moment and think before I wrote Loki and Nyx's "first" meeting. I debated wheter to write the second half in Nyx's perspective or not, and well...Loki won. We'll have more insight on Nyx in the next chapter.

> _The boundaries which divide Life from Death are at best shadowy and vague. Who shall say where the one ends, and where the other begins?  
_   
_—Edgar Allan Poe_

“No!”

A voice roared as thunder clamored in the distance. The forest floors and hidden wildlife squirmed before the growls of the sky. Clouds of turbulence waded through, flashing as they stole the morning shine, and trailed with a downpour. Little droplets of liquid diamonds fell and sparkled in the gloom of the day.

“She cannot go! Loki is not to be trusted!”

A flash of lighting touched ground in the near-distance and like a quick camera flash illuminated the compound halls; the infrastructure trembled beneath Thor’s desperation. Oh, the overly emotional deity who refused to carry out his brother’s demands.

“We _cannot_ give him what he wants,” Thor snarled at the former head of shield as the nerves made it a burden to stand still. His eyes wandered briefly to his surroundings as if to seek support from America’s child, who stood nearby. The burden of the consequences of the situation pressed him and suffocated him.

Fury cocked his brow and neared the desperate god, his stance challenging Thor’s air of authority and pride. His reply and cold tone voiced his opinion on the matter. “And that is not an order for you to take. Let me remind you, Loki is under our custody.”

“And let me remind you,” Thor bellowed in the same equal manner. Face to face. His anger expressed through the echoes of thunder. “Loki is a prisoner of Asgard.”

“And let me remind you, you are no longer standing on Asgardian ground,” Fury underlined with hands behind his back. His only eye fought with equal force the worried and corralled glare of Thor. “You may think your power extends to our planet but let me tell you, you are not in charge.”

Thor’s jaw ticked as through the corner of his eye, the blonde glimpsed at the holographic screen. For on the screen was him. The cause of it all...

Like a trapped animal circling about inside its cage. His torn cage rustled and waltzed with every step. A twisted grin would paint his lips as he would sporadically lock eyes with the lens. An unspoken taunt adding to the tension inside the briefing. An unspoken mock towards Thor.

And as much as Thor strived not to think about it, it still didn’t settle in him how had Loki survived…

“Fury,” Steve intervened. Perhaps he was the only one with enough clarity and equal authority to change Fury’s mind. Sending Nyx was a bad plan. “Maybe Thor is right. He knows who we’re dealing with here. We’d be sending Nyx to the slaughterhouse.”

Thor bit down the inside of his cheek as a weight lifted ever so slightly from his shoulders. He was not alone. Thank the Norns someone saw things his way. Who better than the star-spangled man.

“I think it’s a good strategy to send her in,” Natasha countered as she leaned against the wall. Although unspoken, she challenged the blond American.

“Make him think he’s in control,” Clint added distractedly as he fiddled with an arrow and sat on a desk-chair.

_Make him think he’s in control. _The vague idea echoed in Nyx, who sat beside Clint whilst she listened intently and observed just as curiously. Her presence, however, overlooked. Her fingers fidgeted with the jade double serpent figure of her necklace. The texture of it maintained her anxious hands distracted.

_How much longer is this gonna last? _She thought. Their bickering had gone too far. For two nights and a day had they spent going back and forth, agreeing and disagreeing with one another. It was never-ending. Even Bruce and Tony had grown tired of it and left at dawn. There was not a sign of Barnes either…

For a brief stance, her mind deviated at the thought of Bucky. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach as she distractedly stared into space. To her dismay, her daydreams were ushered away by their presence and their voices.

“My planet, my orders,” Fury deadpanned.

From a glance their interaction, although tense, had the mantle of civilization. Well...if it could even be called that. But their auras. Their clashing energies fought like rabid dogs. And she could feel them. Grand like the ocean. Asphyxiating like a violent embrace.

Her eyes found amusement then, on the ceiling to floor window before they drifted to the light of the sun hidden by the clouds, then to the room where she found only themselves inside. Though she was quickly drawn again by Nat’s nasal voice.

“I’ve met guys like him, thrilled by mind-games by sheer control,” The red-head pushed herself and stood upright and settled herself beside the serous semblance of Fury. “You refuse...there’s nothing you can do.” she shrugged, ”They’re already twelve steps ahead of you with new ways to play with you. Loki’s no different. The only way to be ahead is to make him think we’re playing his game. Make him think we’re exhausted and have given up so we give him what he wants.”

The assassin had a point, Nyx justified.

“It’s a good plan,” Nyx mumbled to herself.

Her piercing eyes gazed at the group, whose discussion had no end. She had the desire to involve herself, yet…Nyx had never been asked at all. They had not even bothered to ask her if she was willing to go forth or against. Why had they not bothered?

_“Mortals have always had such a tendency to immerse themselves to the point they’re blinded by their own rage and pride,”_ the voice of father resounded in her memory,_ “They’re…unique, complex. Easy to manipulate and subdue. Easy to drown in torment.”_

And he was right. Their self-centeredness wasn’t going to allow either Thor and Fury to reach an agreement. But perhaps an outside force might place an end to it…

Quietly, and curiosity-driven Nyx stood up. Clint momentarily side-glanced as she wandered to the door as the machinery behind it opened and closed it behind her.

And while Nyx stood in the middle of the hall, she found comfort in the stillness all around. There was enough peace to breathe and think without being unnerved by their bickering and clashing energies. The white lights became the replacement of the sun as she thought about Loki. She was quite curious to confront him.

To know why had he decided to only speak to her became a whisper and a nudge for her to tiptoe her way down the hall. It could be a mere game to toy with the team, but, there was more to it. Something deep within drove her to believe it.

“Going somewhere, doll?” A gruff voice caught her red-handed though.

“Eek!” Nyx squeaked as she turned to face the direction such a familiar voice had come from. A sense of incrimination showered her cold from head to toe as she saw Bucky leaning against the wall. A sweet, playful grin pulled at his lips and chuckled. Contagious enough to make her smile and make her heart stutter as she faced the super-soldier. “James!”

“Didn’t mean to scare ya, honey.” He apologized and unfolded his arms. And as she approached, his flesh hand reached to caress her arm as it slowly brushed its way down—the flesh of his fingertips leaving a trail of goosebumps—until it reached her hand. His thumb stroked the back and traced circles. And he couldn’t help but silently admire her soft, delicate touch. It was innocent in contrast with his calloused, blood-smeared hold. “Off to make trouble?”

“Off to end it,” Nyx smiled foolishly as she glanced to both sides of the hall before she leaned closer and pecked his cheek. “Shouldn’t I be an angel instead?”

_You already are, _thought Bucky as he gazed at her face with adoration reflected in every feature of his; as if he was sighting glory before him. Though he disguised it all just as fast as his own mind reminded him of who he was; who he used to be. And he remembered again, how undeserving he was of the good things in life, of any form of reverence from anyone. Especially from her.

“I gotta side with Steve and Thor, though,” Bucky crossed his arms, “I don’t think it's a good idea to send you in.”

Nyx stepped back and rolled her eyes, of course Bucky was to side with Steve. Tilting her head, she scowled. “Do you not trust me?”

“I do,” Bucky didn’t think twice to answer.

“Then trust me that I will get something out him,” she pouted and flashed him puppy eyes.

“I know you will,” Bucky leaned closer, his nose ghosted over hers as his lips almost reached to touch her lips. “Who I don’t trust is him.”

Shaking her head, Nyx stepped back with a knowing smile, her playful scowl reminding him they were not alone as the walls had eyes. She was fond of his caring ways, yet she was just as exasperated over his overprotectiveness.

“James,” her hand reached to cup his face, “Loki’s inside a cage he cannot come out of. His energy withers every minute. He’s nothing but a man.”

Sometimes, if not always, Nyx wished Bucky didn’t have to worry so much. A tragedy HYDRA hadn’t taken just his will but also his sense of stability.

Bucky exhaled, his eyes searched her face and her eyes while his hand ever so slightly squeezed hers—an unspoken message of his fondness and his worry. “I’ll be right there if anything happens, zolotse.”

A smile tugged at Nyx’s lips as she stepped back, their hands letting go of one another. “I know you will.”

Nyx turned and made her way down the hall and into the elevator. Bucky stayed in place while he observed the way she’d gone, wanting to accompany her, wanting to…to shield her, in a way, but he refrained. He was more than aware Nyx was capable. And stronger than he was. And it was until the doors of the elevators slid close, hiding her delicate figure, her peculiar features from his eyes that Bucky turned around and strode to the briefing room—where he would stay, waiting.

* * *

There was no distinction between day and night.

Had a minute gone by or had it been a day? Loki couldn’t tell. Such disorientation only built up his anxiety; although, he had a feeling the latter was the answer. Not that he was to protest about the amount of time it was taking those individuals to reach a consensus with Thor. On the contrary, it benefited him per se. For better or worse. He had time to think, to process everything. He had time to prepare.

As it was, he pondered where Ava was. They had separated the moment they attacked—her taking a fair share of those so-called heroes whilst he conjured their own artillery. But Loki knew she was not easy to take down. He doubted they had taken her. Something deep down told him she had escaped. Good for her.

Loki peered at the device on the ceiling and grinned as he paced, as he continued to think, as he continued to prepare—thus, Ava became nothing but an unimportant thought soon to disperse.

And the deja vú that’d showered him coldly while he moved about made his skin crawl. To be alone meant to be alone with his thoughts, with his past coming back to life. And he found himself falling down a rabbit hole second-guessing his demands. Loki was unsure now if he was ready to confront her.

No.

He was not ready.

His teeth bit the inside of his cheek as he thought: what was he to say? How was he to act before her? Would he be able to hold himself? Would she finally let such illusion, such disguise to wither away? Or was she ordered to continue with such torture? What was he to say?!

Norns knew there was a part of him that would not hold back the burning rage.

Norns knew his reaction to their actions would once have been to conceal his anger and meticulously plan. But Norns knew he was no longer that man, that god.

Loki had no longer knowledge of how he would react.

His eyes stared unemotionally to the darkness outside his cage and stood motionless. There was a heaviness weighing on his body as he let his mind roam astray and indulged his stress. His eyes felt heavy, his breathing was shallow somehow. He was tired. When was the last time he’d woken up well-rested again?

Although his exhaustion and roaming thoughts, a shiver crawled down his spine as a sudden cold breeze prevailed inside the cage. A weight nestled on the back of his neck. It was rather odd...for he had not experienced any loose currents of air since his arrival to the hideous cage. And as he continued to maintain his hollow stare off into the blackness surrounding him, it dawned on him then and there, without having to even think about it, he was not alone at last.

“Come forth,” Loki spoke with a sheer calmness his heart shuddered. He was unsure where exactly she was as he spoke. But perhaps that side of his was still strong enough to hold him, ground him as he waited. “I know you’re there, come forth out of hiding.”

Through the reflection of the glass, Loki saw as a black cloud tailed behind and approached the cell. And if he’d thought he’d had a striking deja vú before, the one he was experiencing now stole all colors from his face. This had happened before. In a bizarre way, it had…

_The slender prince adjusted the mount of his steed, readying his companion to depart to the palace after a morning wandering the forest._

_ The sun hung high between the scarce clouds on the blue skies of Asgard. Its rays, warm and bright, kissed the young prince who stood inside a clearing humming as he gave the last tug of the belt. Praise fell out of his mouth as he spoke to the tame animal and caressed its smooth black hair._

_ Light, cool breeze rustled and slipped through the end of his loose long sleeve as he reached to mount the animal. Drowned on his own though he readied when the crackle of branches and the rustle of leaves caught his ears._

_ Standing still for a beat, he listened to the forest, waiting for her to speak but found her quiet. He thoughts, perhaps it was an animal roaming about. And without another thought, he resumed back when the same noises surfaced back._

_ A cool weight nestled on the back of his neck as his hands itched and prickled—his seidr sensing and signaling eagerly he was not alone. _

_ “Come forth out of hiding,” he said, nonchalant and calm. His eyes remained on the fine texture of the leather mount as he waited, only to be responded by silence. “I know you’re behind that tree. Come out. I mean you no harm.”_

_ Ever so slightly he turned around to witness dark matter, a black cloud trail through the trees and wade through the clearing. With arched brows, attempting to hide his amusement, he continued to watch as a figure formed out of the cloud; however, he could not contain his awe._

_ There, before him stood a feminine figure of perplexing beauty. Curious gray eyes with a crimson ring around bore upon him. A mane as black as a starless night fell carelessly over her shoulders. Astray locks fell over her face. A simple black dress, lightly torn and dirtied at the ends spoke loud to Loki about her curious wild spirit._

_ His lips parted but no words fell out of it. His mind had quieted. His eyes remained glued to her whilst his heart stuttered. And again he attempted to muster a word until, at last, a word came out._

_ “Hello,” he greeted, eyes soft, lips tugged into a welcoming smile though she did not respond. “Are you alright? Are you lost?”_

_ There was still no answer._

_ “Are you hurt?” Loki stepped forward, frowning, but was only met with her stepping back like a frightened fawn. “What is your name?”_

The last question floated in the still air as he ceased to remember. His words registered in his head as another shiver clawed at his spine as he found himself face to face with Rú…with his new punisher.

Loki contemplated her, head to toe; from her hair to her eyes, from her lips to her hands, even her height. No delicate dress worn and torn, but what he could only describe as an all-black, equally delicate garment resembling a loose dress. A style he’d never seen before yet suiting her aura. His eyes registered every feature, every single detail, every little action and reaction whilst his hands were fisted and sweaty—holding themselves back from wanting to reach out.

His breath was taken away from his chest. She was just like her.

“My name?” Her voice was soft although hesitant.

And his chest ached at the sound of her voice. His eyes stung as he never glanced away from her. For her voice came to him like a lost memory, her voice was as soft as he remembered it, light and pleasant like a fine tune to his ears. Norns, was her resemblance jarring to his heart.

Although he avoided to even think of the fact her only contrast was the lack of any wings. His heart foolishly rejoiced and hammered while his mind grounded him to reality; it was only a trick. A trick to trick the trickster. With that in mind, he allowed anger to seep into his veins. Enough to keep himself from wanting to rush to that witch and embrace her illusion and accept it as a reality.

“Yes,” gulping, Loki clasped his hands behind his back and squared his shoulders. The grimace of indifference he’d managed to create only built up to his heartache. “Your name.”

Her lips parted as she hesitated, her eyes fazing for a split second; losing herself in her mind before snapping and tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “I cannot tell you my name…but you can call me Nyx.”

Loki shifted his weight and scoffed at her response. His hatred and disgust only grew with her response. “You think of me fae?” The corners of his lips tugged and formed a sneer. “I am no _fae_ you fool. Surely you have never had a god stand before you, meaningless pagan.”

“I know you are no fae,” Nyx fidgeted with her hands while she maintained eye contact. Her voice losing all hesitance and timidness before him. “Fae can only do so much with somebody’s name. But you…” her words trailed off as she debated whether to keep on talking.

“I what? Speak up. Pray tell me, little witch…I what?”

“You’re different, you’re not to meddle with” she confessed, head tilted and eyes searching his face.

“Is that what Thor informed you?” Loki ceased to stand, his anger growing so much he needed to move. “Do you believe his word?”

Chin slightly raised, Nyx continued to observe the caged individual through the beat of her heart and whispering thoughts. His aura reflected without the need of words his unsettled state. “I trust his word.”

“Very wise of you to do so,” a chuckle followed his response, venom dripping down as he, at last, glanced away from her. “Though I’m curious,” Loki tilted his head, pretending to think, pretending _just_ enough to measure his next steps. “What is a witch, like you, doing here? What brings you to trust so blindly...to work for these mortals? Have you not seen how this planet is rotting because of them?”

Nyx arched her brows, unconsciously stepping closer to the crystal, observing with detail the jailed brother of Thor. His semblance striking something though she knew not what. “Their cause is noble,” she responded, voice soft like a susurrus of the gentle breeze. “Though I think you’d find that reason to be bleak. Though…what brings _you_ to earth? After all, isn’t this planet an undesirable place to be as it is rotting because of them?”

Loki ceased to trail around, his eyes fell amused on her face. She was clever enough to play with his own words. And cursed be all the realms for his insides twisted and turned at her similarity to his defunct love. If he could, he would step out of the cage and… and… “Lift the illusion and perhaps I’ll answer.”

Nyx furrowed her brows, tilting her head like a puppy; a shy, nervous smile tugged her sweet lips. “What illusion?”

_Such a horrible liar,_ thought the trickster.

Loki’s eyes drifted to his feet as his nails clawed deep on his flesh, the pain not being enough to ground him. A sour grin smeared on his face and chuckled. “Thought yourself clever, capable of fooling me?”

Confusion showered over her face. Her eyes darted to and forth, searching his face. “I don’t understand…”

“Lift up the illusion, witch!” Loki snapped with bared teeth and breathing ragged and heavy. Fury clouded his eyes and painted them a shade of black. “You cannot trick _me_! You think of me a fool?! Lift the illusion!”

“What illusion? This is me…” Her voice was small, timid, frightened, almost unheard over Loki’s roar. Her face was a poem of confusion and peeking dread as she watched as Loki neared closer to the glass. His crazed eyes stole shudders while she gulped and noticed how dispersed and equally dark and crazed his aura was. “This…this is me.”

“You filthy creature! I’ve had enough of your games! Your pretense and hypocrisy disgust me!” Loki continued on to bark, his eyes clouded by red. The tears he had not shed, the pain he had hidden so well manifested through. He’d had enough of their torture, enough of their games. Enough of Thor divulging her existence just to be used against him by some worthless creature. He’d had enough of her disrespect towards him! Towards her!“How long did you think your tattletale would go on for?!”

Loki glared down at the girl, her glassy eyes doing nothing but fuel his anger. Her facade of confusion and dread did nothing but make his skin crawl. Her silence spoke tenfold of her deceit. How dare she! How dare Thor! How dare _them_ thinking they could use her image! Disgrace her! She was dead! But even with the dead one could not meddle!

They would pay. They would all pay. One by one. An eye for an eye. A tooth for a tooth.

“ANSWER ME!” His fist clashed with the glass. The impact although soft, created a fine, prominent crack.

His demand ricocheted in the stagnant atmosphere and did not settle. His seidr prickled, burned to wreak havoc, to reach her but he could not bring himself to release it and only grew exhausted and desperate by it. As much as he tried, the spark was dead, bleak. And through his anger and echoing mind, he had not a care to give as the room filled with men pointing guns towards him.

He cared not of their presence and continued on to bark his anger away and cackle instead of weeping. After centuries. He did not care as he vowed in silence, as he glared at Nyx and saw a man with a metal arm reach out to her, to bring forth chaos.


	5. Forget Me Not

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The only thought that maintained her hopes was the knowledge that only a soulmate can remember their past lives and their one and only love. Few knew of this. And it was only now a matter of time. Bucky had remembered before—but when was that? How long ago?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! another chapter after what? like almost a month...yikes. It’s pretty lengthy which I hope compensates the fact that I take forever to update anything. Also because I don’t know how to write decent length chapters. Enjoy my lovely readers! I’ve taken so many liberties with this fic, but any feedback is appreciated. Also, watch out for lots of errors...I kinda edited...I did my best <3

> "Night obscures the blurred edges of memory."
> 
> —Greg Sellers, journal entry, "Notes from Neruda's Ghost," 23 February 2020

* * *

_She posed before his golden stair, shrouded by shadows, under his single glare. His menacing form under golden plates was framed by silver locks. Lines of old age carved his face. The years had scraped him away, but not his power and thirst for revenge._

_ “There is no one to blame,” his voice echoed inside the golden room with false sympathy. Mock pulled a one-sided smirk from him and slapped her face with it. His eye displayed no particular emotion. Not a single care. Only vain. “No one to blame but him. He’s drawn you to your death. Yet you still claim to love him. If he had not been so careless and condescending, perhaps…”_

_ “I still would have died,” she replied with an unmatched kindness towards her judge and punisher. Her beauty yet to be unpaired, untouched even by such a dire situation. Her eyes, with that red ring over sugar gray, twinkled with life. A life which…it would not last. “You do not take kindly any creature but your own kind.”_

_ Shackles squeezed with no mercy her neck and prickled her flesh. Every movement from her chained wrists and bare feet called death. Enchanted to act like living vines, like serpents about to devour, every graceful move even of her wings was no more than a threat of asphyxiation. Pretty thing, she was no more than a canary entangled by a serpent. Forced away from freedom_

_ “Is that your last say?”_

_ “No,” her eyes stung from the acid tears she helplessly held. Her heart faltered and drowned with nerves upon his indirect command. Her time was near. And without care or hesitation to feel the chains strangle her, she turned to face the third soul inside the room._

_ Delicately dressed in rose tones of love and life. Her eyes were bloodshot. A somber cloud danced upon her graceful form with the knowledge of what was to come. Oh, the mourning queen._

_ “If I must die…” a loose tear danced down her cheek. “Tell him his life was my life’s best part. Tell him that I love him…I always will.”_

_ The beat of silence that settled weighed heavily on their hearts. More so on the queen who found no words to muster through her guilt. But her nod, the unspoken promise, was more than enough words could ever be. It was the only answer needed for her to face again her judge and punisher._

_ And so, she watched him stand. The light created shadows and concealed his face and transformed him into the grim reaper who held onto his scythe, like he would with his staff._

_ “I, Odin Allfather,” he declared, “sentence you, to death for the crimes of your lover.”_

_ Clang!_

_ The floor squirmed upon the strike of the golden staff. The jarring echo blasting, and almost as if the chains had life, they slithered away from her body. The shackles fell off and freed her wrists._

_ But relief was short-lived._

_ The sign of horror and pain painted her features as her lips parted—from which neither a scream nor a word was mustered. For a burning sensation made itself present and like acid, it coursed and poisoned her body. Slowly crawling from her limbs, stealing her strength and falling._

_ Black dots contrasted with the gold her eyes saw, each second becoming more prominent—bigger, darker, denser until a blur of light was only left for her eyes to see while her body trembled, twitched, writhed for the cool contact of the floor made it all worst._

_ “No…” she whimpered, pleaded but the words were more than a brokenwhisper as she crawled away from the golden stairs. Her hands becoming numb with every touch against the floor, with every endeavor to drag herself away to imaginary safety with which her heart fluttered slower. Each drag stealing away another beat, and another, and another, and another until at last she lay in the middle in a sea of gold._

_ Her heart trembled weakly, holding on dearly. The pain prevailed. The world was nothing but a blur. And as if a rock had been placed on her chest, a weight strangled her lungs. A black trail of blood slid down her nose and withered in between her lips as she turned her body._

_ There was no more fear. Even as a wail, a pained scream reached her ears…there was nothing more to feel. The pain had numbed her body._

_ “Maybe in another life…they’ll let us be…” no longer fighting the heaviness of her eyes she closed them as thunder drowned it all out. “Maybe in another time, we’ll be…”_

“_Gah_!”

Nyx sat up, sweaty, panting, gasping for air to reach her lungs as a deafening scream charred her head. Disoriented, her hands clawed the sheets and clung to them and fought what she thought was death taking her life but in reality, it was only a nightmare lurking. Her eyes, opened wide in terror only saw nothing but shadows of the night creeping in.

There were no golden walls.

No streaks of light.

No flickers of flames.

No chains.

“AHHHH!”

Fazed by her own fear, another howl startled her to reality as thrashing on the bed revealed the pained soul crying out. Barely seen through the darkness, and only aided by the moonlight creeping in from the balcony glass door, a figure trembled under the sheets and clutched to nothing beside her. Her eyes glassy from fear, tried to discern the figure until it dawned on her who it was. How could she forget such a broody and built figure.

“Bucky…” all air was pushed from her lungs as she placed herself on her knees and reached to turn on the light on the nightstand. The brightness dazed her as she turned again and scrawled to reach the super-soldier caught in his own demise. “James…James wake up!”

An anguished grimace painted Bucky’s features, fear blatantly written on the tears trailing down and mixing with sweat as he whimpered and growled despair. His muscles tensed as the comfort of the mattress became the new punishment, the new overwhelm to trigger hell.

“Bucky…honey, it’s only a dream…” Nyx shook and pleaded Bucky who refused to awaken. Tears threatened to fall down. Somehow his screams and wails were asphyxiating, triggering her fear evermore, overwhelming her to no end for his suffering. “Wake up! I’m here baby I’m here…”

“NO! PLEASE!” He sobbed.

“It’s me! Bucky! It’s only a nightmare!” A metal death grip seized her wrist as she continued to call to Bucky whose thrash violently increased. His pleas and wails desperately ricocheted inside the bedroom as they were directed to no one.

The sting of his deathly grip had her whimpering herself, biting the inside of her cheek upon the subtle crack of her bones beneath his bionic limb. Her mouth opened but swallowed the pained sob and scream as her free hand left his shoulder and reached to lay on his forehead. And like a cool tendril, her magic seeped through him and found the triggering horror and cast it away while she cooed and whispered sweet nothings to her desperate soldier.

“It’s okay…everything will soon go away…” she hoped but more importantly reassured. Her hand pressed gently on his forehead, her voice tremulous and tight. Little by little he stopped writhing.

In a blink he sat up as if he’d been shocked with a bolt of lightning, eyes wide, throat dry and left with the sour taste of the aftermath of his deceiving mind. His chest rose and fell rapidly, heart hammering painfully inside its cage. His metal hand still clung to her wrist—the pressure like that of her dream—asphyxiating, paralyzing. His weary eyes searched the room and darted to the side upon Nyx’s coos and sweet nothings.

“It’s okay,” her hand tucked away a loose lock of his chocolate hair. “It wasn’t real.”

Her tear-smeared face, where a gentle smile broke through, made him feel small. So small and defenseless, like a lost child who was so susceptible to it all, Bucky could not resist and pull her body close. Head buried on her chest as he allowed himself to let out a single sob, his arms pressing tight her middle while he found comfort on her affection and the floral, dreamy-like scent emanating from her. “I thought they were back…”

“It’s okay,” Nyx kissed the top of his head while her arms returned the embrace; playing deaf to the pulsing on her wrist.“They can’t get you here. You’re safe…safe with me, Bucky.”

Relief embraced her whole as she hiccuped and swallowed a sob, eyes closed, hands trembling, and resting on his naked back. Tracing unconsciously over it, or rather drawn to feel the ridges of the frontier that were his scars separating the start of his prosthetic limb.

Warm and glossy…soft. But not as smooth as the rest of him.

Nyx found herself distracted by the textures of his skin. Her own terrors being forgotten in the process; although most of it was now a blur, some details prevailed. For a moment, the only concern was his nightmare, his fright, her desire to calm his heart, give him back the comfort the past had mercilessly turned to dust.

“It felt so real,” his voice was muffled, but the dread coursing through him was unhidden.

Gently, Nyx pushed him back so his eyes could meet hers. A shuddering smile on her face, her uninjured hand stroked his cheek and dried his tears. Her heart clenched upon his sight, she’d never seen him this bad. Like a fawn before the headlights, cornered, afraid, paralyzed, stiffened completely by fright.

The nightmare was horrible. She had glimpsed at it. And for a moment, as she tried to find the right words to say the loud calls and thuds to the bedroom door startled them both. “Bucky!” The dry echoes ricocheting inside disturbed the little peace they’d found lingering between their silence.

“Bucky?!” Someone cried out. “Bucky?!”

Frozen in place, their eyes never daring to look away, they realized who it was calling out the door. Panic settled in their stomachs as they spoke with their eyes.

“Are you alright?! Bucky!”

And on the same motion, Bucky wiped his cheeks and lightly squeezed her hand before sliding out of bed to make his way to the door on the far left. Nyx stayed motionless, holding her breath.

His hand reached out to crack the door the slightest open and leaned against the wall blocking the view inside. “Steve?” His voice was groggy. A mere pretense to disguise the hoarseness of it.

“Buck…” Steve was breathless, his voice dripping with worry floated inside for a blink.

And in between the beat of silence and Steve’s hesitance, Nyx could picture him. Looking paler than he already was, disheveled, rosy cheeks from sprinting down the hall. Puppy eyes flooded and glassy, darker in color, staring endlessly to her soldier.

“Are you alright?”

Bucky’s response was hoarse. A sheer mumble Nyx couldn’t make up. In fact, she heard nothing of their conversation for her mind had wandered astray, a sense of misplacement showering her as she fazed away. The irrational thought her presence was perhaps not necessary, and she should grant the two friends some space was the encouragement for her body to dissolve into a black cloud that trailed and crossed the open sliding door to the balcony.

There she took form and gawked blankly out into the woods that were drowned in darkness. The oversized white shirt she wore rustled and danced along with the cool breeze, her legs feeling the caress of the night. Unconsciously, her left hand held her injured wrist but did not wince. The pain had become brief, a small discomfort, almost nonexistent.

Nyx breathed in and exhaled her exhaustion and stress out to the night. What a chaotic day it had been. And the night had not brought out peace as it seemed. But the night was beautiful nevertheless. Bright, twinkling with a million stars, and the moon—shining bright like the nocturnal sun. And if she stared a little more intently, the constellations could be even seen.

Ursa Major wandered to the right. Its little cub, Ursa Minor, just _slightly_ to the left followed after its mother.

Even Perseus was present. Wielding his sword, holding the head of poor medusa. His trophy. And beautiful Andromeda, rarely was her constellation seen, but she was present tonight, faintly.

“I’m sorry Buck…”

“I’ve learned to live with ‘em…”

Their voices were drawn away by the light breeze as it fell briefly on her deaf ears. The stars were just too amusing. An excellent distraction to fall into to dissolve her previous moment of distress.

“Have you seen Nyx? Fury’s looking for her…” though her name falling from Steve’s mouth caught her attention upon a sudden change of subject. Her brows furrowed as she continued the gaze out into the night.

There was a beat of silence.

_What did Fury want now? _Nyx swallowed as she continued to unintentionally listen.

“I don’t know,” responded Bucky.

“They’re taking Loki somewhere to question him. A change of strategy,” said Steve, confirming her own inner suspicions. “Fury wanted her to take part in it.”

“I haven’t seen her, ” Bucky was a good liar.

Nyx exhaled, losing interest in their conversation. Again she paid deaf ears to the super-soldiers and returned her attention to the night as not many did. Though her own nightmarish dreams seemed to realize how at peace she was for they began to lurk on the edges of her mind. The word “death” and the only clear memory of her dream as her life withered made her anxious as she desperately attempted to focus on Perseus and Andromeda again.

And an utterly irrational question followed and plagued Nyx more than ever: Could she possibly...die? Was she as susceptible to encounter death as any other mortal?

The swarming answer supporting the dreadful ‘yes’ became fuel to the irrational uncertainty blooming in her mind. But it was all nonsense, right? She made herself believe that. After all, there was no supporting evidence she was as mortal as humans were. She was immortal, a little goddess, the daughter of the king, the princess of the fallen.

She could never die…right? And the nightmare, it was only that…right?

The night grew quiet over the spawn of a few minutes, her mind, at last, halted to speak. The only susurrus was that of the wind and the dancing trees. Nyx crossed her arms, hugging herself—the ever-familiar presence of Bucky flourished warm, hesitant around her. He was near. Right behind.

Half a century of training and his aura had not acquired the art of stealth like his footsteps had.

Yet Nyx remained still, mute to his presence and waited. Waited for him to speak, say something, anything. Waited for him to search his mind, organize his thoughts, and speak those thoughts aloud. For if Bucky didn’t, heavens knew those demons of his would only amount to future distress. Demons that could’ve been prevented if she’d only found him sooner…

“Fury’s looking for you,” he spoke, voice gruff like gravel and stepped closer. It was no surprise he brought to attention another subject to scapegoat his afflictions. “Says he wants you to take part in a new strategy to question the Asgardian.”

Ah, Loki—what was his last name again? Odinson?

The defunct brother, as she like to call him now. The hidden Asgardian royalty deemed a fugitive prisoner. Not only that but a walking oddity that slowly drew her attention unbeknownst to her, yet. Perhaps it was the fact Loki believed her corporeal form to be a mere facade to disguise her true self that had her _just_ a little bit intrigued—_just_ a little bit. Or the mere fact he was royalty—the highest of the highest—and was imprisoned. Or…his desire to know her name…either, or. Or both. Yet Nyx pushed all related thoughts and questions to a corner of her mind and made a mental note to join Fury tomorrow.

In silence, she turned and faced Bucky. Her eyes took all of him, exhaustion and sleepiness were written all over him. Bared chest, sculpted to perfection like treated marble; the scars by his clavicle and shoulder the only signals where the chisel had slipped. “A change of strategy?”

“Yeah,” his flesh hand rested on the glass railing. The cool of it seeped through his pores. His eyes wandered to the forests as he said not a word no more and only listened to the creaks and chirps of the grass and crickets from afar.

Nyx said nothing, only sniffed, as she had no intention to extend the topic of conversation. She rather waited, waited for him to speak his mind. And as she did, crimson eyes nestled briefly on his face whilst she reminisced on their past. Oh, how time flew by.

“It wasn’t me this time,” his voice broke through the silence with fading courage. “On the chair…” he specified, “it wasn’t me this time,” there was a sour reflection in his eyes as he desperately sought out into the night, as he sought into the cool breeze some kind of morphine to numb the aching. “They had…they…”

_ They had Becca…_her mind completed his sentence. For Nyx glimpsed inside him, briefly but tortuously when she had attempted to usher the nightmares away. She had seen what he was forced to see.

Bucky lowered his head, eyes burning with salted tears, throat constricted by a lump of fear. His hand still clung to the glass, knuckles white. “I tried to fight ‘em. Get her off of that damn chair…but I couldn’t do it.”

Ever so slightly her hand rested over his flesh one and squeezed it gently. Bucky returned the gesture—fingers leaving the glass railing and found her cold hand to cling to.

“I would do anything to see them again,” he confessed. “Sometimes I think they’re still out there…mom, pops…Becca.”

Nyx lifted her gaze and found his longing glare blurred by heartache and long lost memories. “What would you be willing to give to bring them back? To see them one more time?”

“What would they ask me to give away to gain a moment with them?” Bucky stared back. “What would _you_ ask?”

Nyx sniffed and lowered her eyes. The answer to his question was quite discouraging…deals with otherworldly creatures, with her kind, always came with hidden interests. But she…she would not ask a thing from him. From anybody, but not him. She’d go her own way to grant him such opportunity. “You’d have to tread lightly with whom you’re dealing with, with whom you’re asking the favor to…” Nyx advised instead. “You just might never know who…what is laying behind…and what they are hungry for…”

She was taken aback, stomach sinking down by the cool touch of his metal fingers gently gripping her chin to raise her gaze and meet his stern eyes.

A light frown was painted on his face whilst he examined every detail of her face. The conversation was long forgotten by him for he’d noticed something. A small change he hadn’t caught at first.

“You’ve been crying.” It came out more like an assertion rather than a question as he drifted to study the rest of her. Hurt and anger reflected and twinkled lively in his eyes. How stupid of him to not have noticed before…“I hurt you didn’t I.”

“What?” Nyx frowned, slightly taken by surprise by the sudden change. “I haven’t been crying,” she sniffed and looked away. Discretely, she crossed her arms, hiding her injured wrist, and pretended that the cold of the night was getting the best of her. Admitting he’d done such a thing—as much as it was unintentional and an unconscious spur of his—would only fuel all that hidden self-hatred of his. “And you haven’t hurt me. What makes you think that?”

How they’d gone to the matter she had no desire to talk about? Nyx didn’t know. Damned his observant eyes!

“I hurt you,” Bucky grimaced, his flesh hand slipping away from her hand. “Let me see.”

“Y…you haven’t hurt me, James,” he wasn’t wrong though. Yet it wasn’t like she would admit to it either.

“I need to see how bad it is,” his jaw clicked. “Nyx.”

Nyx smiled, aloof and nervous, a small step taken back unconsciously. God did Bucky had to be so observant. Even worse, so insistent. “I…I haven’t been crying, I’m okay,” she said, “I…I’m okay. You haven't done anything. What makes you think you’ve done something?”

“Nyx,” Bucky repeated, swallowing the fact he’d noticed she’d stepped back. Away from him. “Please.”

Nyx fell silent and only looked at Bucky. First, she’d have to die and be resurrected to make her tell and make him feel worse with himself and destroy all the progress he’d made. No.

“You’re not the only one who’s had nightmares, James,” bashfully, Nyx peered away—arms still crossed. “You’re not the only one who’s been…haunted, who’s afraid,” she confessed.

There was a beat of silence, the night fell quiet too. Her words registered in Bucky and wiped clean that grimace of self-hatred with that of surprise soon overshadowed by understanding and compassion. Patiently, he waited and listened.

“I…I can’t remember it well,” she said, voice weary and afraid. “It’s all a blur…but I remember the pain…everything hurt. I was…” the words were hard to say. Even to use her own nightmarish reveries to distract him from his pursuit, it made no difference to her anxious mind. “I was dying,” frowning she looked up and held his gaze.

Without saying a word, Bucky stepped closer. Hands resting on her arms to let them fall to her sides, he pulled her body to him—arms wrapping around her, nose nuzzling and breathing in the flowery scent of her hair, lips peppering soft kisses. “Aw, zolotse. Even if death came knocking at our door, I wouldn't let her take you from me. I’d fight her fist to fist.”

Nyx buried her face on his chest and muffled a chuckle.

Ever so slightly she rested her chin on his chest and looked up to him with wondrous eyes. “If you’d do that for me, I too wouldn’t let nightmares ever come to take you away from me,” Nyx confessed, chest swelling with sentiment, “They wouldn't survive my wrath if they tried to take you,” she lightly joked, hoping to bring out a smile from the somber cloud looming about in his face. Though she couldn’t help but contemplate him in silence.

Over a number of lifetimes, and Bucky was the same one she had met centuries ago. A little rusted from the treatment of life, but that did not tarnish all of him completely.

And it did. A small smile broke through. A small victory. The breeze rustled loose locks of his hair and tickled his face. “What are you thinking, angel? You fell awfully quiet so quickly.”

“I’m remembering you,” Nyx said, nostalgia flooding her chest. She reached to cup his cheek. “My favorite human. My favorite mortal. You haven’t changed since the first time I saw you...”

“Which one are you remembering?” Bucky leaned into her touch, a pained expression clouded the brief break of joy from him.

_Oh, how could he ask such a question?_ Nyx marveled. To look at him was to look at every single version she’d met. Every single past version, every single past life of his. He hadn’t changed a thing. Perhaps a few things; mostly his name. But not much. He was the same.

“Every single one,” she replied, the smile never fading. “The commoner, the shepherd, the beggar, the sailor, the trader...the baron...you.”

Although time had passed, centuries left behind, Nyx could still recall with sheer clarity the first time she’d seen Bucky. Laboring wholeheartedly the fields, treating his crops under the burning sun. His body under rags stained by mud and dirt—face smeared too with the reflection of his arduous labor.

At first, she was entertained, curious of him. Another unique mortal that’d drawn her attention. Wouldn’t be the first nor it wouldn’t be the last. She was in awe to notice his ability to withstand and laboriously work his fields under the heat. Not an emotion of dislike and exhaustion shadowed his face but rather determination. At the time, or perhaps it was the location, water was scarce. Yet he did not relent.

All day he spent out in the fields, working. It wasn’t until sundown that he returned home. A humble little infrastructure, made of stone and wood. And every time, he’d be greeted by a little girl—who ran to him every time he returned despite his dirtied appearance. The smile as bright the sun itself. And he, he would embrace her and lift her into the air, his laughter echoing in the acres of land.

Nyx later learned she was his little sister.

And for years she watched him. Fell in love with him. Wished to break the forbidden rule and speak to him, be with him. But father forbade it. Thus, in the distance was she to remain, watching him. Doing the little she could to get him to notice her existence; move things here and there at home, have his crops flourish earlier way before the fall, even befriending their little dog to have him always bark and make noise when she was present.

He never noticed.

Nyx was left to suffer in silence, in the distance. To see her Bucky go on and love another.Live his life with that other. And to witness him fall ill as his life perished from him without the ability to do anything for him. All for it was forbidden.

His death was jarring. She had fallen in love with a creature death could touch. She had fallen in love with someone whom she could never hold.

“_You must not meddle with mortals,_” father had said. “_It is forbidden. Our kind must not interact with them. Ever._”

Yet Nyx suspected such rule was hypocritically biased. Nothing but a mere excuse to have _her_ as far away from mortals as father wished for reasons she knew nothing of. After all, didn’t their kind feed from mortal’s lawlessness; which was all sparked by their meddling and offerings of riches and false eternal life promises? After all, father, the devil himself could not follow such law. He still lured mortals into the dark...

Following his rule had cost her her “_first_” love or so it seemed<strike>; little did she know her first love laid somewhere far, bound away from freedom, suffering</strike>. But Nyx would not make the same mistake twice.

The years passed and left her with the sour impression time had nothing but stilled. Until like a miracle, as she wandered the world she found him again. Same aquamarine eyes, same plump pink smile, same, _identical_ features on a man who loved the sea. And she was known then, as Pearl. His Pearl…

And this time she had not a second thought. Nyx reached out. Breaking the single most important rule meant little when she had another chance to love Bucky when in his past life she was unable to.

“You were my first love,” she murmured, head resting on his chest. “You still are.”

Each time, after their time came to an end, Nyx waited and searched. Searched for Bucky through time and found him over and over again. Sometimes she missed him, but she found him eventually. Until she missed him during the war and realized far too late she’d missed him again.

Another handful of years to spend waiting and searching. For her fallen soldier never came from the war. Her soldier had died without ever knowing her.

If she’d only gotten to him earlier. If she had only found him years before, she could have saved him. Saved him from the fall. And to carry that guilt was bittersweet and overshadowed the relief and joy to find out, almost a century after, that Bucky had never been dead.

“I wish I could remember our moments,” His lips pressed a kiss to her crown. His words were tremulous. “I wish I could relive them all over again.”

Every single memory, every single moment they had in the past...if Bucky could only remember them, what they had and still did...Nyx wished that too. However, each version, each of his reincarnations, each rebirth, each resurrection had almost always no memory of her. And to attempt to make him remember was…almost, if not always, heartbreaking.

The only thought that maintained her hopes was the knowledge that only a soulmate can remember their past lives and their one and only love. Few knew of this. And it was only now a matter of time. Bucky had remembered before—but when was that? How long ago?

All that was left now was to make new ones before their time came to an end while she waited for him to remember. “Why don’t we make new ones instead?”

_ But you’ll remember. _Nyx promised._ You will._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t wanna spoil anything but I feel like things are gonna get a bit complicated for some..There will be much more Loki and Nyx in the next chapter! Thank you for reading!


	6. Bruises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nyx goes back to question Loki. Things seem to go a little smoother than the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I present to you all, another lengthy chapter for you guys to delight on. I promise there will be much more action from chapter 7 onward, I promise. Please bear with me. As always, thank you lots for reading. It means a lot <3
> 
> *Also gonna add some more warnings here for this chapter just in case: explicit mentions of torture.*

> Finding is losing something else.  
I think about, perhaps even mourn,  
what I lost to find this.

> **—**Richard Brautigan

The soft _tap_ of soles against tiles echoes in the deserted hall. The vibration of the sound springs from wall to wall and diminishes just for the rhythmic pattern to resurface all over.

It was a quiet morning. Dawn had long dissipated since. Fog mantled the surrounding hills and meshed through the acres of forest around the premises. If it was ever possible, it seemed the white humid clouds that roamed the land desired to crawl inside.

_ Another gloomy day. Seems the thunder god remains troubled. Honestly, how could he not?_

Yet there’s something so soothing about it. The absence of life. The abundance of silence. The magnificence of the still nature overtaken by the clouds. As if the sky had desired to lower itself to touch the dew-filled pastures for a while. A rare luxury really.

The strange yet alluring emptiness in places where there should be bustle. It only reminded Nyx of the countless occasions she’s sauntered into abandoned places; crumbling castles, small cottages in the middle of nowhere, abandoned buildings, desolate manors…the list is endless.

The morning meeting was the opposite of uneventful. Fury wasn’t fond of her little excuse for not assisting the other night. As it appeared, things are not as what they seemed. For a moment, Nyx imagined Loki was no more than a fugitive found by the Avengers who now waited extradition to…Asgard was her first deduction, the raft her last but his most likely destination. That was not the case as Fury literally dropped news flat out that seemed more of a bombshell to Thor…

_“How did it go last night?”_

_ Fury stalked to the front. The same unemotional energy Nyx had always sensed, followed after, and dispersed through the room. “If you were there,” he said, “you would know. Where were you?”_

_ “Out,” Nyx excused herself and smiled sheepishly._

_“Out,” the one-eyed repeated. “Well, I need you to go back,” Fury leaned against the control desk. “I need you to get something out of him.”_

_ Tony raised his hand. The motion only stirring the head of the heroes to roll his eye. “Legit question, don’t lose your hopes so quick,” he joked, “why are you still sending Nyx to question Shakespeare when he’s only waiting for extradition?”_

_ “Because there will be no extradition.”_

_ Tony folded his arms and leaned back. “Last time I checked, that’s what the reports said.”_

_ Thor stepped in, eyes a shade darker. Navy blue like the deepest oceans. “We had come to an accord, Fury. Asgard was to take custody of him.”_

_ “And they will, eventually,” Fury said nonchalantly._

_ Thor only fell silent and said nothing more. Nyx could only glance at him puzzled to see the lack of a fight he had placed. Knowing what she knew, she came to the conclusion that he was troubled, shocked to the point that handing back his own blood on a silver platter seemed jarring after having thought he had lost his brother._

_ Bruce fixed his glasses, the same expression of confusion on his face was mirrored on the others. “I’m sorry, I’m not following. I thought we had accords with Asgard. What purpose does it serve us to keep him?”_

_ Nat made her way to the control panel in front upon the discrete nod of Fury. “Because Loki is more than just an alien in our planet,” she spoke and turned to the screen while her fingers danced over the keys of the panel. “He’s our lead. The best lead we have to ‘Project H.’”_

_ Nyx creased her brows. Crimson eyes directed to Fury, who awaited for the red-head to finish her current task. “Project H? I remember you spoke to me about it. HYDRA, right?”_

_ “Indeed,” Nat asserted and turned as dozens of pictures were displayed on the screen:_

_ A remote military fort, disguised to appear abandoned. A satellite snapshot of the latter. Heat signals. Photographs of military vehicles entering the fort. Several other desolate areas of which the whereabouts seemed unknown yet somehow familiar. Photos of men, military officials. Though amongst the countless photos, on three of them were familiar faces, although blurred by the zoom of the picture, in black and white, there they were._

_ Hollowed eyes due to the poor quality of the image. Hollowed cheeks. Sharp jawline. Same face structure. Wearing particular clothing no normal human being would wear unless he or she was on a renaissance cosplay convention, as Tony would put it._

_ Pale like a ghost. A beautiful mane as white as the snow with little braids adorning it. Pointy ears like those of an elf from a fairytale. And a pair of irises that bore an intense yet clear gray, almost transparent. Her features were frozen in a stoic expression with enough beauty, Nyx could only think and conclude evil suited her._

_ This one camouflaged with the others well, unlike Loki—who wore a prince-like attire._

_ Nyx glanced at the countless images with a million questions buzzing. But placing two and two together was not difficult in order to realize the implication Fury was making. She could only arch her brows in surprise and glance at Thor who exited the conference room in a blink._

_ “Why have I not heard of this?” Steve asked, or rather, demanded._

_ Bucky remained silent. Eyes lost on some unknown place of the room with his jaw clenched._

_ “I’d like to ask the same question,” Tony jumped in. “How come the girls know but we don’t?”_

_ “At this moment explanations have no room,” Fury deadpanned. “What matters is now on the screen. We’ve been tracking this for months in silence, taking as much intel as we can. We have found by far the largest HYDRA facility. In the process we gained information of several small branches that supplied the queen bee and served as a decoy,” he proceeded to gesture to the screen, “some of these places don’t look familiar to you?”_

_ “We raided half of those,” successfully, Nyx remembered. With the exception of one, that is._

_ “You guys have been working on Project H without knowing,” Fury spoke. “My plan was to keep it that way for longer. However, it looks like they are not working alone anymore...”_

Hands gripping the side of a silver platter, the cold metal seeped through palms while Nyx continued to walk down the hall. Loki’s memory was pretentiously dancing in her mind, ignoring him was futile. She’d never imagined it. None of it.

He was a walking prince with so much repressed anger reflected in his glare. And a wicked smile that had you believing he was, in fact, in complete control regardless he was on the other end. A prince dancing with the worst of the worst.

So many questions floated in Nyx’s mind. Now more than ever after the plea Thor had whispered in a desolate corner of the hall after the meeting. His words still resonated loud and clear, helpless, broken.

_“My relationship to Loki must never reach the ears of the others, please,” _glassy eyes bore down desperate. On the verge to let the well of saltwater run down._ “I trust you will keep this secret of mine. I know this is taking advantage of your good heart, but no one can know, Nyx. No one.”_

Of course, Nyx said yes, she wouldn’t tell.

It wasn’t like it was for her to tell, anyway, it wasn’t right. She’s an outsider to a problem between family, that all in all does not concern her, yet. She had never planned to speak of it to anybody—maybe Bucky…he’s her gossip buddy, of course. Though such thought had not even crossed her mind at all until Thor reached out to her. Nyx could have asked for something in return for her silence, her curiosity was peaking, bubbling, but only offered Thor a shoulder to weep on and an ear to listen. Should he find himself on the brink of collapse.

After all, secrets do carry their own weight when they’re silenced. And as time tends to extend, carrying such weight often bends the strongest.

But now, she could only hope now that the bowl of sliced apples was of his liking.

Nyx ceased her stride and stood in front of an all too familiar door. A brief whoosh of air stroked her cheeks as it slides open without the use of the fingerprint panel—thank you JARVIS. In silence, Nyx stepped into the blacked-out space but maintained her eyes on the only light concentrated in the middle like a beacon.

_So cold and quiet, heavy and damp._

Exhaustion floated in the air. Subtle but prominent.

As it appeared, the crack on the glass had been repaired.

Crimson eyes focused on the imprisoned figure sitting on the floor. His hair was a slight mess. She found his stare completely fazed, clouds hanging under them, staring into space. His face, the more she studied it from the shadows, posed no vivid color like the other day.

A frown shadowed her face. She couldn’t help but wonder if the spell she’d placed was too strong. She’d been feeding from Loki just enough to have his strength, especially his magic compromised enough he posed no threats. Unless there was more to it.

Something deep down told her there was more to it.

Nyx stood in front of the crystal cradle, hands holding the silver platter, and bit her lip nervously. She’d decided to take the amicable route. No hostility, no pressuring, no violence. Call her insane for such decision, but it just seemed right to treat him with a little humanity—whether he deserved it or not.

Loki only flashed her an empty glare, jaw tensing in the process.

“Brought you something to eat,” she smiled and slightly raised the platter. “Couldn’t decide between strawberries and apples, so I decided to choose you my favorite.”

Nyx crouched and placed the platter on the floor. There was a small panel of buttons just below—mind you, the cell’s built on a base that has it a foot above the floor—and pressed the first button that instantly opened a rectangular space where she placed the bowl of fruit and glass of water. Just as quickly the compartment closed and the items surfaced inside.

Nyx stood, hands clasped together, lip still nibbled and pressed between teeth, and eyed Loki expectantly. His ill appearance continued to bother her.

Loki only stared at the bowl with hungry eyes and swallowed. He made no move to stand nor to reach for sustenance.

“Just a gesture of good faith,” Nyx sunk on her shoulders and assured. Her hopes to have him reach for the fruit began to diminish. “I mean you no harm.”

Loki scoffs and raises his glare and locks it with hers. A grim smirk tugs at his lips but there’s more to such smirk. She can see anger hidden right behind it. “Is that so? Yet it seems you fail to live up to such empty promise as you keep hiding behind a disguise like a coward.”

Again with his foolish belief she was hiding behind a disguise? Nyx sighed and lowered her head with yet another million questions buzzing in her mind. She was appalled by his foolishness and slightly hurt. She knew better than to start asking questions yet, however.

In silence, she watched as her attire changed into a black leather suit resembling that of Nat’s, the hue of her hands turn just a shade rosier like hers, her curves just a bit more pronounced like the assasin’s. And with a serious expression, she raised her head again and saw her faint reflection on the glass. Her hair was no longer the color of coal but the color of angry flames—much shorter as well. Her nose was pointier, her lips much fuller, her cheeks plumper. She was just like her.

The only detail that remained unchanged was her eyes, crimson as ever. “Is this better?” Her voice too, as it seemed, remained the same. Nyx could only hope Natasha didn’t get angry for stealing her appearance for a bit.

Nyx observed as Loki’s eyes drifted from head to toe. A smug grin almost making itself present as his eyes fell again on hers.

And as they looked at each other, Nyx found in his eyes, the source of his ill appearance and overbearing exhaustion. Strangely, not only could she see the memory, but also feel it. The reverie was so palpable for a moment she thought she was living it…

_ Loki squirmed and thrashed under leather bounds. Everything was black._

_Water. Cold as ice it poured and poured endlessly onto his face covered by a cloth and burned his insides like fire._

_ He’d chosen this hell. He’d chosen to remain quiet. To not answer their stupid questions. This was nothing._

_ “Where are they?!” The familiar voice of Fury roared inside the room as the downpour ceased for the millionth time and the cloth was removed from his face._

_ Loki only convulsed and coughed as much liquid out in a desperate attempt to breathe in. He grunted as he was forced again to sit upright. He did nothing more than to lower his face and hide behind damp locks of hair hanging down._

_ “What are you doing to them?” Fury sat on the edge of the table. “We have footage of you taking them. They are innocent people.”_

_ With little strength left, he raised his head and sneered remembering their faces. If he was correct, Ava would be resuming his work. He was close to an outbreak, perhaps a great revelation that might just bring some meaning to his life again. “Nothing that they can’t endure.”_

_ He watched as the one-eyed nodded to the men. Again he was shoved down. Face covered. Water poured again. And again his insides were scorched and asphyxiated all over…_

Nyx blinked away the sudden sting in her eyes and let out a shaky breath.

“Pleased with their work, are you not?” His voice was hoarse like the sound of gravel under shoes. A smirk tugged on his lips and stood up.

Like a caged animal he prowled and stood in front of her whilst he clasped his hands behind his back.

Nyx gaped like a fish out of water, trying to find the right words but found none. Her mind was a storm. A hurricane that rained down and dispersed her thoughts and emotions and left her in confusion. She wasn’t supposed to feel this…this guilt, this shock that began to coil and swell in her chest. He was just a sinner who had it coming. Another criminal from the lot.

Loki was just another sinner.

Yet the dry sound of the door opening and closing lured her mind back to reality. Swiftly she turned back and found Bucky standing on guard twenty footsteps away, almost engulfed by shadows. Arms crossed and a furtive glare plastered on his face and made no motion to come closer.

Nyx flashed him a questioning look. Bucky glanced at her eith an equal confused look.

“It’s me,” Nyx assured Bucky whose eyes widened upon the sound of her voice.

Bucky shook his face and chuckled. “Steve’s orders, doll,” was all he said before falling silent and allowing her to proceed with her questioning.

In silence, Nyx nodded and turned to face Loki again whose eyes had wandered to the super-soldier. That grim smirk of his did not wither but grew. It did not go unnoticed the strange shadow of recognition that flashed his tired eyes.

“Pleased to see you again,” Loki said to the guarding soldier before his eyes wandered back her.

Nyx half-smiled and tilted her head, paying no mind to the comment he’d made. “Not gonna try the apples I brought you? You must be hungry, are you not?”

Loki glanced down where the bowl of sliced apples and glass of water stood. His stomach growled and spoke what his mouth refused to confirm. “I’m afraid I know better than to accept something coming from a creature such as you. No offense.”

Nyx shrugged and smiled. “Non-taken. Humanity should be shown even to those who make us question it, that’s all.”

Loki tilted his head, smirk painted perfectly, eyes twinkling darkly—shadowing his own ill appearance into a sinister facade. “And I am that someone who has made you question it, a lost cause?”

“Oh, no. You have not,” Nyx shifted her weight to her left leg and thought out her next words, “whom you’re relating yourself with have made me question it,” knowing eyes glanced heavily on the raven-haired whose face was emotionless. “What can you possibly gain from them? What do you think those close to you will say?”

“Those who are close to me?” Loki questioned and grimaced. A flash of anger rushed past his face in a blink and faded just as quickly. “How would I know?”

“They’re innocent people,” frustration weighed on Nyx like the world would on Atlas. She couldn’t help but pout, growing, perhaps, as stressed and worried for those missing individuals she’d seen as Fury possibly had been the other night. Moreover, it bothered her to no end Loki’s willingness to turn his back and forget his own blood. Thor still cared for Loki, Nyx had no doubt about it. Thor was so easy to read she’d seen his fondness and worry the minute he stood alone with him inside that very same room. But it was better not to push it. “But you’re not gonna tell me anything about it, right?”

Not yet.

“Clever little witch,” the raven-haired taunted.

“I guess that’s it for today then,” Nyx rocked on her heels, hands behind her back, lips tugged into a smile. Crimson eyes studied his form from head to toe. Unconsciously, her lower lip was caught between teeth.

“It appears so.”

Nyx had to admit, Loki had this evil charm and facade that quite dug through her better judgment. Maybe that’s the reason she hadn’t mind-controlled him to spill it all out yet. Well, she hadn’t thought of it until now also. Lest to mention, Loki was the first out of many she’d questioned that wasn’t as bleak of a creature.

“Until later then,” Nyx spoke before turning and walking away. Bucky tailed behind and matched up the pace the moment the door closed behind them. Their arms touched each other’s every now and then.

Their footsteps echoed in the hall as the only noise to disrupt the silence. Playfully, Nyx nudged Bucky and smiled, batting her lashes and stealing a glance and a chuckle from the soldier. Nothing was said. It was comfortable silence.

“You didn’t get anything out of him,” Bucky spoke. “Fury’s gonna be convulsing by now.”

“Not so fast, soldier boy,” crimson eyes reflected fake offense and grinned, pronouncing ever so slightly a dimple on her cheek. “Loki has a right hand, did you know that?”

“I did not,” Bucky played along and cocked his brow.

“Now you do,” Nyx raised her chin proudly. She was yet to tell him the more she knew. The more she’d seen, read his thoughts. How he was toying, meshing life with death and those poor innocents, who were now his guinea pigs.

Bucky glanced down at her, baby blues twinkling amusedly until another chuckle rumbled in his chest as Nyx continued to smile at him and nudge him playfully again. And like a timid child would, she pecked his cheek. “My God, can you please go back to your normal self? You’re creeping me out, doll. You look like Natasha's psychotic evil twin.” The soldier joked.

In a blink, the facade fell. The mane of fire was no more but coal. Her complexion a softer, paler tone of rose. Lips, not as plump. Nose not as pointy and pronounced. “How about now?”

A toothy grin plastered on Bucky’s face. “That’s my girl.”

* * *

If Loki had ever forgotten the numbing touch of forced solitude, he was surely reminded again with a full asphyxiating embrace.

And it was cold. Colder than he’d ever known or grown accustomed to it burned his conscience and frostbit, bit after bit the sanity regained in ages. Chewed at him, simmered like acid until that hollowness he’d stuffed before began to show like the holes on a wall crumbling with the ages.

Loki was going insane, annoyed, desperate to walk the same circle over and over. Perhaps he _had_ forgotten what it felt to be held prisoner again.

If his calculations were correct, he deduced he’d spent, give or take, close to a week in confinement. But the week had merged and distorted into a single long minute. A long, exasperating minute.

As twisted as it sounded, their torture and meaningless questions served him as a distraction from the same empty darkness surrounding him, staring right back at him. It distracted him from his own reflection.

Ah, and that witch. That little foolish thing. Oh, how he resents her as much as he grows amused of her. At last, the mask fell and saw her true face. Nyx reminded him of Freya. Without all that vain that preceded the goddess but with that same benevolent side and those mystic eyes.

And Loki had almost fallen for such pretentious benevolence. His hunger had almost betrayed him. His mouth watered at the thought of the sweet taste of those slices of apple against his palate. But he refused to touch them and chose starvation over sustenance. Loki chose the burning and suffering the twisting of his empty stomach over breaking his own pride. He chose to grow weaker, far more than he already was.

Good thing the witch had come back and taken the bowl after seeing the fruit had gone brown. Bad thing she replaced it with another bowl. This time with peaches. But he refuged himself on the belief her intention with which she carried out such humble act was to pry out of him an incriminating confession.

Nyx had to do better. And he, he had to find a way to have his seidr manifest for it seemed it refused to obey his commands. But Loki could feel it there beneath the surface—coursing through his veins and tickling his hands with its ghastly presence. It was rather odd.

Hands laid limp on his lap whilst he reflected until a thought floated in Loki’s mind like an iridescent firefly wading through the vast blackness outside his cage. Come to think of it, his mind was as grim as the darkness surrounding him. But that was irrelevant at the moment. An idea floated in his mind, a theory he had to test.

Hands pressed against the floor and pushed himself to his feet. For a second his view blurred, unfocused like a camera lens startled by the view and grew dizzy. It took Loki another second whilst he stood still until his view focused again and his head stopped spinning. Then he proceeded to stand in the middle of the cage, muscles relaxed, breathing steady.

His eyes concentrated on his reflection staring right back, unfazed, and listened to the exhausted beating of his heart.

There was a tug.

He felt it—faint, inside his chest, close to his heart, and in the back of his head, inside his brain. Like a second heartbeat with an outward pull as if he’d been tied to a string.

There it was again. Subtle but ever-present.

There was no emotion reflected on his face as he closed his eyes. He concentrated on the gentle tickle of his seidr rushing through and prickling his fingertips. But as quick as he had felt it, it coiled back the moment he wished it to manifest.

Exhaling, his brows creased and tried again. This time with more determination, with sheer relentlessness until the rush of magic and tickle became a swarm of little pinches. Then he whispered under his breath and opened his eyes as a big black line with figures and unique forms around were unveiled on the floor.

His seidr faded away just as quick as a breath puffed into the cold air.

His breath caught on his throat whilst his eyes studied the figures that struck something inside his mind. Victory and amazement sunk on his stomach as his eyes drifted and followed the black line around and turned on his heels, realizing adjacent lines drew inward into a star from the circle. And he, he was standing in the middle of it.

It took Loki a moment, several peeks at the figures surrounding him, and many tries to dig out memories from his mind to realize just what was he standing on.

”My gods...” it couldn't be.

Loki stared into the black lines on the floor, a reflection of terror and shock. It was a different kind of magic. As powerful as his own and just as slick. Not Asgardian, not even belonging to any lesser world. It was something, unlike anything he’d ever seen since…

Just as quick he laughed off the idea. No. She couldn’t be.

Turning to the camera he stared and sneered. Eyes shadowed and sunken by the angle of the lights. His jaw twitched.

“Clever little witch,” she was feeding from him. Leaching his magic away, so too his strengths with sorcery he had only seen from…from _her_. What an idiotic coincidence. Thor, and perhaps mother, did a splendid job to construct her. “Clever little thing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our precious stabby boy didn't have the best of nights either 🥺 well, when has he ever after, you know, after that day...


	7. Into The Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki and Nyx have a more, you could say, civilized conversation. When night comes, Loki finds a way to amuse himself as he is fed up of being caged like an animal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while guys. I missed you guys 🥺 Thank you for following and reading. It means a lot <3  
I did little to no editing so, yeah, beware my luvs.

> This is how it starts.
> 
> Memories grip you, and then you're dancing with ghosts.
> 
> —Nadine Tomlinson

Too many thoughts. A vast ocean of what-ifs. An avalanche of questions. And the fleeting once thought possible idea to find an escape.

Perhaps, Loki pondered, if he had not played his cards the way he’d done, and not have handed himself to these people, he could have made use of Nyx.

Her potential…goosebumps rushed all through Loki’s arms at the thought now. Such potential could be of fine use to him. So much power laid within her no witch could ever have. Her magic, capable enough to suppress him. Him! A powerful entity, unmatched by all, a god for heavens’ sake!

But a sorceress could do so…perhaps.

Impressed fell too small of a word to express his amazement. If he had only known this before. His only solace now was that he had not fought a simple creature but a true opponent, who stood—heavens forbid he ever said this out loud ever—at his level. Or close to it.

And now his eyes couldn’t help but gawk at her, nearly dumbfounded at the same sorceress in the disguise of a simple red-headed woman—who now stood before the glass carrying another tray of fruit.

There was a glint in her eyes as she smiled. The same glint from yesterday—vain, victorious, taunting. But the million questions now flooding his mind spurred him not to question it.

“You didn’t eat,” the comment, sounding more a statement, filled in the silence that prevailed. A glint of disappointment could be seen on her face.

There was no guilt to feel from his part…maybe just a little. But why?

Loki glanced down at the descending bowl and turned his head ever so slightly to the back. There was no trace of his discovery on the floor from last night.

The fruity scent didn't take long to tickle his nose and draw him back to the red-head. His stomach churned eagerly. Gosh, he was so tempted and her encouraging smile was no help.

He was growing weaker by the minute. And she, she was looking all the more radiant.

“I wasn’t hungry,” Loki stared down due to the height difference, and quickly avoided her stare at the light ache in his chest.

“Are you hungry now?” Nyx raised her brow. She was pleased to see Loki seemed much better than yesterday. Less battered, yet equally distant and unresponsive.

“I see Sergeant Barnes isn’t guarding in the shadows,” Loki noticed. A smirk almost pulled his lips at the memory of his unease, resembling that of a dog with its ears lowered and limbs tense—flexed, ready to pounce. Barnes had changed so much.

Nyx furrowed her brows. “He’s busy today.”

Loki wondered if he remembered anything.

He just nodded.

“Well,” Nyx started, “I was thinking today we could do something different, for your sake and mine,” a chair materialized right behind her and sat. She gestured to Loki to do the same.

To his surprise, a chair was behind him as well. Loki stared at it mute and then glanced back to her. With a nod, he sat.

“Humor me, little witch,” he crossed his arms and leaned back. “What other torture must I endure?”

“None, if you work with me.”

Loki raised his brow. “Work with you.”

“You’ll get to ask me questions and I’ll answer them, and I will do the same. I’ll ask you and you’ll answer,” Nyx cut right to the chase. “_But_, there’s one condition: you’ll eat, a bite at least.”

Loki threw his head back and laughed. “And just why would you think I’d agree?”

“You intrigue me. Plus, what better option do you have?” The way Nyx saw it, it was a win-win. A conversation never harmed anyone. “Have you any self-love left? I don’t think you’d want to go back to Asgard,” eyebrow raised, Nyx crossed her legs, “back to a small cell for whatever is left of your time…”

Loki cocked his brows and allowed Nyx to continue her talk.

Nyx gestured and pursed her lips, “I mean that’s what they’re saying. Besides, between you and me,” she lowered her voice, “they’re planning to add more charges to that long list of yours. After all, you _are_ a fugitive. A dangerous one.”

“One more charge, one charge less…” Loki raised his shoulders, “it makes no difference in the end.”

Having gone against the Allfather’s ordinances had sentenced him to a lifetime in prison. And that was without counting crimes against the crown, multiple counts of murder, and leading rebellion. And let's not even mention the guilt he carried for the remainder of his lifetime.

It made no difference.

“What makes you think I’d ever help you?” Loki inquired, setting forth their idiotic dynamic. “I have nothing to gain nor do I have something to lose.”

“Then, if you have nothing to gain and nothing to lose,” with a slight move of her hand, the plastic bowl levitated in the air until it sat on Loki’s lap, “I’d imagine those people who’ve disappeared are yours and HYDRA’s new lab rats, aren’t they?”

“You didn’t answer my question,” Loki smirked. “What makes you think I’d ever help you?”

Nyx smirked, eyes flickering against the only light source in the room. “Touché.” Her eyes never left his dark glare and thought about the answer. There was truly no reason for him to collaborate. “I don’t know. A warm bed is out of the equation, charges or no charges mean nothing to you…and I assume reuniting with family is not an option or something you’d like. Revenge, though…” Nyx pointed out.

“Family?” The vehement word resonated in his mind.

“Everybody has one,” Nyx said. “You’re no different.”

A knot crushed his throat. Anger, resentment, sadness all plagued him as he thought about his family. Did he really have one? Those royals were beyond him.

_Was I not your family?_

_ Were we not your family?_

A soft voice echoed in his mind. Ugh, that voice. The voice he always ignored as it was his mind playing the better hand. Oh, his stupid conscience disguised as _her_.

It didn’t help Nyx’s familiar eyes were staring at him from the other side of the glass.

“What makes you think that?”

Nyx tilted her head and smiled humorously. “That's three questions. Now, I answered before so it’d now be my turn to ask something.”

Loki breathed out and rolled his eyes at the thought of her next, clearly foreseen, question.

“I’ll take that as a yes,”the smile almost faded as she studied his face. Ever so slightly, Nyx tilted her face with a knowing look.

Goosebumps and nerves crawled over Loki’s skin. The way her eyes held no emotion but maintained a level of softness made his stomach twist and turn. It was that same softness of _her_ own eyes, now plastered on a stranger which made his stomach twist and turn. The same voice in the soul of a siren ready to play her part, to lure him into the trap made his skin crawl.

That was the difference between this woman and the ghost who once, and maybe still haunted the halls of his mind. This one before him was evil, worst than him who was the villain.

“Tell me, Loki. Have you found peace in all of your destruction?”

Loki’s breathing halted for a brief minute. His eyes almost lost focus. That, that was not the question he’d expected her to ask.

He thought about the answer for a minute.

“No,” his heart sank after realizing he’d answered.

“Is that what you’re seeking with all of this?” Her voice was tender to his ears.

“Yes…no,” Loki abruptly changed his answer and felt his heart race and hammer against his ribcage. He wasn’t supposed to reply, not out loud at least! But he did. He wasn't supposed to! “Why are you asking me this?” Still lost in her eyes, he at least managed to speak. “I I thought you wanted to know what I’m doing to those people, what I’ve done with HYDRA?”

“I do,” Nyx said. “I’m only trying to create a conversation. I imagine you’re fed up with the same questions being asked time and time again. I know I would be,” Nyx crossed her arms and continued to stare at Loki. “Now tell me. You’re not seeking peace, then you must be seeking revenge. That’s it, isn’t it?”

Loki bit his tongue and tried to drown the sudden urge to blurt out yet another answer. Instead, Loki begrudgingly closed his eyes and breathed in and let out an airy chuckle. “Trying to trick the trickster, I see.”

“You haven’t had a bite of your food,” Loki’s statement was completely ignored,“that was part of the deal.”

A chuckle faintly echoed in the room.

A smirk pulled at Loki’s lips as he opened his eyes and defied the red-head. Irritation boiled his blood.

Nyx was evil. A close mirage of him. Another deceiver.

His hand lowered to the bowl and grabbed a piece of fruit. Slowly he drew it to his mouth while he glared at Nyx. Though before biting it, he spoke, “Tell the god of Thunder hello, tell him it is good to see him again, will you? Of course, do so too, with Sergeant Barnes.”

* * *

It was a nuisance having to pace around the same place all day. Keeping count of the times Loki had gone to and forth was impossible.

Loki was growing anxious, exasperated by the loudness of his own mind. Exasperated of hearing her voice, over and over, repeating the same questions.

Peace? Loki rolled his eyes at the mere thought of it. Such a foreign word rolling around his tongue. His chaos never brought such a thing. But satisfaction…that he was well acquainted with.

Then came revenge. Revenge. Loki hummed. Oh, his good old friend. The only light shining through the blackness of his world. The thought of it made his blood rush.

Ugh, he was an idiot for opening his mouth! For being weak! For not fighting his weakness! For not pressing his seidr to revel against her chains!

What an imbecile he was.

Loki tried to hear the silence surrounding him over the loudness of his mind. He took in all the scarce details around but Nyx's face was all he could see. Those piercing eyes were all he could see.

However many times he’d done this since Nyx came to leave him dinner was unknown to him. Attempting to focus his mind on whatever he could find, instead of letting his mind dwell was utterly hard. Sometimes he wished he didn’t have a one-track mind….

_ “Have you any self-love left?”_

No. Stop it. Stop it.

Loki huffed and swallowed a growl.

Focus. Focus on the details. Focus on the glass. Yes. Clear glass, as thick as his own middle finger. Also a disguising mirror, where his reflection liked to pace around and pretend he was his own person. Clear glass. It was the walls of his cage.

Focus on the outside. Focus on the unseen walls hiding in the dark. Possibly made of a material capable to withstand his power. Those walls were the prison of his temporary prison. Yes.

And of course, don’t forget the two doors. The one behind, closed airtight, and almost blended in with the glass if it wasn’t for the metal frame around it. And the other, the other standing across from him, lost within the obscurity of the trapped night.

Again, Loki went over it as if to memorize it:

Clear glass, four walls, two doors.

Clear glass, four walls, two doors.

Clear glass, four walls, two doors.

A prison within a prison.

A cage within a cage.

A prison within a prison.

A cage within a cage…

Just thinking about it gave Loki a headache! For a moment he wished Ava was there with him. That way he would at least have someone to converse with.

It struck him right then and there as he paced, that…even when he had been in the dungeons, Ava kept him some company in his solitude.

Ava was the one who, if it wasn’t for her constant snark, he would’ve lost his mind. Lost it more than he already had. And now Ava was not there to keep him from falling down the rabbit hole.

Loki’s only solace was the knowledge Ava was carrying on with his plans.

Loki continued to pace around. Though out of nowhere, just as he was beginning to fall down the same rabbit hole, an idea twinkled in the back of his mind. A…trick to amuse himself, find some distraction. It didn’t take much of his energy or what was left of his magic. And it also was no use for escaping. But it was enough to maintain him occupied. And if he’d timed correctly, it was night, which was perfect.

Without a second thought, and more than eager, Loki sat on the floor crossed legged, back straight, hands resting over the side of his knees. For a bit, he stared at his reflection. He then closed his eyes and focused on the rhythm of his heart.

Loki breathed in and breathed out. Breathed in, breathed out. Breathed in, breathed out. Breathed in, breathed out whilst he listened to the soft thump of his heart and began to feel his body briefly heavy, then lighten. He continued to do so until he felt himself floating.

He opened his eyes just to find he was outside of the cell, staring at his body inside—who still sat on the floor, eyes closed, meditating.

Loki glanced down at his hand and noticed a hint of transparency. A triumphant smile plastered on his face. He’d done it.

He turned around and faced the direction of the second door. In silence, he strode towards the darkness until his eyes grew blind. He maintained his stride until he found himself crossing through and standing in a desolate hall.

Loki squinted at the light, although it bothered him not. He glanced to both sides, conflicted where to go for he realized this was as close he’d ever be to freedom for now.

Though he noticed the tug on his chest was still there. It’d never gone away, although he had thought it did. He decided to follow it.

“Where will you lead me?” He wondered as he walked down the left side of the hall and felt the tug strengthen _just_ a little. As he followed the invisible force, his eyes took in all the details surrounding him. Although it wasn’t much, just a couple doors closed shut, and the elevator standing right in front.

He debated whether to go up or down. Though he was pleasantly surprised to notice his reflection wasn’t following as he stood near the doors.

Loki glanced to the side and found a door leading to the stairs. The emergency exit. Without a thought, he approached it and trespassed it. Beyond it, Loki found concrete walls and a myriad of stairs. He felt the tug’s relentlessness lead him up the stairs. He continued to follow it.

If he remembered well, the main level was five flights of stairs above.

He was right.

Everything was swallowed in deep silence. Empty halls were devoured by shadows. Not a soul was seen. Yet that was the marvel of it.

Loki wandered through the halls, free from his chains. Although his interaction with the world was limited in this form, this was better than staring into the same black abyss. This was fun.

Loki took advantage and surveyed the wolf’s den and memorized it well.

Plenty of exits were scattered throughout the main level. Useful. But even though desolate, eyes were scattered everywhere. Surveillance was heavy. Especially on the hall he was strolling through now, where only a single door stood at the end.

But Loki soon learned the reason for the latter.

The trickster couldn’t help but grin at what laid before his wicked eyes. Weapons, of all kinds, of all sizes and equal severity were all securely displayed. It was a treasure in its own way. This weapons vault would come handy should he find a way to escape.

“These shall be of fine use,” he muttered to himself as he laid eyes on an intricate glass table holding an array of shiny daggers. “A shame I cannot hold them just yet.”

Loki peered around for a little longer before he left the same way he came.

Again he continued to roam through the dark while he hummed a soft tune. Though he stopped at the sight of the moonlight peeking through one side—where the wall was all clear glass.

In the distance, he faintly saw the trees reaching out to the black night, stroking it with its branching leaves. The sight was soothing and drew him towards it. Called to him, signaled him to go, follow the trees, follow the breeze, follow the night.

But all tranquility and that peaceful trance were tarnished at the sound of laughter. Soft, joyful laughter coming down the hall Loki couldn’t help but grow perplexed over.

Was he hearing correctly? Was his mind playing tricks and distorting things?

Loki almost shrugged it off when the same laugh faintly echoed again.

”What...?”

No. It wasn’t him. The laugh, the soft, delicate laugh he’d heard was as real as he was. And oh, that laugh…

He hadn’t heard it in so long. And for a moment he fell for it and believed it belonged to _her_. For a moment he ignored that Nyx, that cryptic thing had the same voice of his love, and possibly the same laugh.

In a rush and with a grimace on his face, Loki followed the laugh and felt the tug tighten. Walked down the hall and turned at the end and staggered. He strut until he reached the end of the new hall and continued some more until the laugh grew just a bit louder, clearer. He continued to rush until he turned and found at the other end, between the shadows and the faint moonlight, two figures.

Loki paused for a moment. He couldn't make out who they were. Yet he continued to feel the violent yank on his chest. Thus, he started to walk again to reach the other end, where they were.

Halfway there and Loki recognized the tall, muscular figure standing beside a raven-haired girl—whose face he couldn’t see. The trickster could recognize that bionic arm everywhere he went.

“Sargeant…” his voices trailed off. He watched the soldier push the girl ever so slightly against the wall and cage her in between his arms. Palms pressed against the black tiles of the wall. To Loki’s dismay, whoever the girl was, he could not see her face as Bucky’s arm blocked the view of her face.

Loki watched as a playful smirk pulled his lips while he spoke, and heard a slight, gruff chuckle. A chuckle that drew the same soft, delicate laugh from the girl again, that perplexed Loki evermore.

It was the same laugh. The _same_ laugh.

Bucky’s arm lowered. And through the darkness and dim light, Loki caught a glimpse of the profile of her face. Subtle features, more than familiar. More importantly, he caught the glimpse of crimson and sugar gray.

His face almost fell.

If it ever was possible in this form, Loki felt his stomach sink deep and freeze.

”What the hell…” confusion, frustration, anger flashed all in his face as he fought against his own feet who dared not to step forward. ”No.”

The more he remained frozen, starting at the end of the hall where they were, the more Loki felt all his surroundings spiral. And the more her features grew in detail, like a haunting ghost. The more her sweet smile grew as she stared at the soldier.

But it was the gentle kiss of the two oblivious love birds that pushed Loki to gain control of himself and rush towards the two, only to feel himself being pulled back. Loki cared very little and attempted to rush forward again, and again he was yanked back.

Jaw tense, he glared down to his chest and to his surroundings. There was nothing holding him. There were only them, smiling, touching, kissing. Enough fuel for the irrational anger burning in Loki’s veins, for reasons he failed to understand.

For a moment he closed his eyes and fought against the tug in his chest and marched forward. Loki continued to march and pull only to feel a sharp jab that made him open his eyes and find himself no longer in the hall.

All Loki saw was clear glass, four walls, two doors. And of course, his reflection sitting across.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chan chan chaaaaaaaan.


	8. Mania

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was good to have a half-dead heart. It was good to be a creature not meant to live but also not meant to die. She could chase him all her life. Or so she believed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea what to say. Even I am surprised to be posting again in less than a week, give or take. I am shocked that I managed to write this in two days. But I am more than happy that I did :D
> 
> *I am adding dub-con warning for this chapter just in case, I consider it not to be, but just to be preventative*

> _“I wanted him in the bluntest way. I wanted his lips, his hands, his arms. I wanted him the way the ocean wants the shore, constantly reaching and running back. I wanted him the way rain wants to fall, the way the sun wants to shine, the way words want to be read. I wanted him to infinity, to the millionth degree. No amount of rain could douse the fire I had in me for him. ”_  
**—E.K. Blair**

* * *

**Two nights later,**

**23:00 hours.**

Life at the compound is distinct. Nights are silent, pitch-black. It’s a world of its own. Sheltered between forests. Time is lost and is only reflected when the moon comes and goes about in the sky.

Nobody knows what’s unfolding between the shadows. The halls are black as the night seeps inside. JARVIS is always silent at these times. Sleeping, as he would say. More like guarding the actual tower at the other end of the state.

Life at the compound is great. The world knows nothing of the illicitness between two lovers. They get to creep in, hide their affection, vocalize their pleasures in the farthest room of the living quarters.

Their secret is well-kept. Only the four walls are the witnesses.

Witnesses of hands roaming, touching, tracing, and holding tight. Their bodies ablaze with life, burning feverish lust no coldness could ever repress. Their lips feasting on each other’s mouth. Tongue snaking between pearl teeth. Lips swelling and pulsing but it’s the sting that set both hungry for more carnage.

Bucky had never known this much passion. This much hunger. And if he had known it before, he’d forgotten it just like the rest of his past.

But something was missing. He could feel it. Guilt seeping through with every kiss. Yet the warmth of her intimacy hazed his mind. Bucky continued to feel and hold on tight to her body.

Hips thrust and sank, the rhythm becoming sloppy much like the squelches of their illicitness. Nyx arched her back, the feeling of her walls fluttering all round Bucky had her fisting the sheets. Eyes rolled back, mouth gaping, teeth sinking on her lips.

Strong arms snaked beneath her and pulled her body close. She could feel him deep, every inch moving within her. Rubbing that sweet heavenly spot that had her moaning in his mouth. Nails sinking into his flesh, drawing blood and a growl from the soldier.

“James…” Nyx whimpered. Warm lips suckled her breast whilst the Soldat's hips stuttered.

The feel of her warm cunt drugged him ever more and continued to move sloppily, desperately like a dog drowned in lust. Much like his body, fallen in ecstasy, his mind was complete mush. Bucky couldn’t pronounce a word. All he could muster we're curses and growls.

“James…” Nyx drew her soldier away from her chest and cupped his face as she let herself fall back to the mattress, his arms snaking away from her. Her hungry lips latched to his mouth and wrapped her legs around him. Letting go of him was not an option.

Not when her sergeant had never lost his touch. Not when time was so precious. Not when it existed the possibility of no tomorrow. Not when throughout centuries, throughout every world she’d managed to find him on…it was the same love, the same firm, burning touch. Perhaps better than the last, or maybe every new version of him changed. Changed for the better.

Nyx couldn’t let go of that. Call it obsession on her part. A delusion perhaps.

Between hungry kisses, Nyx allowed herself to open her eyes. Crimson orbs admiring the beauty of her soldier boy. His closed lids, the wrinkles forming in his forehead as he frowned—lost in the high only _she_ could make him feel.

Yes. This was love. Love.

Nyx groaned in his mouth, feeling his pelvis grind against her clit with the rocking of his hips. The sparks forming all over within her had her hairs raise on end. Goosebumps trailed her flesh.

She closed her eyes at the overwhelmingly exhilarating sensation of dual stimulation. Nyx was nothing but putty beneath Bucky.

“Oh!” Her back arched, their lips letting go of one another as she sought the rough touch on her nub. Again, Nyx opened her eyes.

Emerald irises stared right back.

No sapphires. Not the blue skies she’d known but a deep, hypnotizing green. But as she was lost in the fog of pleasure, Nyx could not muster to register what she was seeing. Instead, she allowed herself to lose herself between the green. Feel the pleasure tenfold as the face before her registered.

Hollow cheeks. Marble skin. Sharp chin. Thin, rosy lips. And a mane blacker than the night herself. Nyx was enthralled by the face.

“Loki…” his name fell through a whisper. Hands were no longer warm but cold the ones that roamed her body. “Loki,” Nyx sighed, this time transfixed by the gentleness of his eyes. By the loving, cold touch admiring her body.

Somehow Nyx felt her dying heart swell with a feeling she’d never experienced in the past. It was hard to explain. Complex.

Sadness plagued her then. Betrayal roamed through her bones…and happiness. A soothing joy she’d never felt before. The feeling was like a drug. And the more she allowed herself to drown deeper in it, the more a little voice echoed in her mind. Bucky’s face flashed in her head before Loki’s appeared again.

Over and over again, until realization settled on her like a strike of lightning.

How could she…imagining another man in the presence of the love of her life…

But this felt so real. How?!

_No, no, no… _Nyx tried to push him away, but his green eyes showed no emotion but warmth. Invitation to fall apart beneath his body.

“Love,” he called. Raspy and low as his hands caressed her thighs and parted them evermore.

Nyx watched him sit on his knees, lining up again to dive in the warmth of her intimacy. “Get away. No.” Nyx whined and arched back seeking his touch, oddly enough. Yet her better judgment had her meekly attempting to close her legs but Loki was already between them. “No…I love him” she told herself, “I love him, Bucky” His lips trailed from her chest, peppering cold kisses until he reached her mouth. “I said get away!” Nyx screamed and used her strength to push him again. Eyes closed shut to retain the guilt from streaming down.

Guilt-tripped she slid through the mattress and sat on the edge. Silence fell upon the room and weighted heavily on Nyx. The rotteness she hid flourished. She loathed herself.

How could she…

Oh, but she loathed him more. Nyx detested Loki in that moment. Abhorred the fact his memory had plagued her mind so suddenly.

Was she really lusting for him? Even the question made her tremble. Hell forbid!

Bucky sat perplexed, the high of the moment diminishing thanks to his overthinking. He’d hurt her! God, he was an ass as it is for the things he’d done, but this!

His eyes tried to register anything, read her body language for her back was facing him. But there was nothing. There were only those two long scars on her shoulder blades. Pink, smooth to the touch and glossy, painted and contrasting her skin.

Over time he’d wondered the story behind them. The image of an angel seemed to suit her best. Maybe it was the coincidental positioning of the healed wounds. But Bucky loved to picture Nyx as such.

Bucky couldn’t help but glance down at his own. The ominous boundary that marked the end of him and the beginning of a soulless machine.

They weren’t too different. But there did exist a difference—only he’d never speak of it. He couldn’t. Not without breaking her heart. He was done destroying others. He’d rather keep it silent.

“Did I do something?” Even though Bucky was sure of it, he couldn’t help but ask the obvious. He sat up and reached out to her. Unconsciously his metal hand traced over the long scar over her left shoulder blade.

Nyx only shook her head. Bucky wasn't the problem. He’d never be. Her eyes were lost in space, confusion was reflected on them. She did not dare to look Bucky in the face.

There was a beat of silence. Pressing things would do no good. Bucky decided to change the subject. Perhaps to one much worse, uncomfortable rather, but easing situations had never been on his training. “I always wondered about your scars?”

“Those?” Nyx arched brows.

His lips parted, the questions already piling up. But the soldat knew better and swallowed them all.

“I first noticed them as a child,” Nyx began. She could sense his curiosity, read his questions. A story painted with half-truths and half-lies would do it. “Birthmarks mother and father said they were.”

_Yet there was as somberness in their faces when they said it. As if…they knew there was more to it. Their glassy eyes, turmoiling with rage and sadness, are still ever-present in my mind._

“But they must ‘always be covered’ father said,” Nyx could still remember it. His ruby eyes, the soft smile, and press of his lips to her forehead. The reverence he used to conceal his sorrow. Ha! The devil himself was ashamed of her daughter's imperfections. But she’d learned to live with it. “I never questioned him. Or my scars. Doing so will get me nothing or make them disappear. It’s a part of me.”

Nyx glanced to Bucky, a half-smile flashed his way. Bucky did the same.

Admiration and guilt were quick to poison him.

But Nyx couldn’t see it. Not through the hypnotizing smile of his that had butterflies fluttering in her stomach all-over again. Not when the thought that she had all eternity to be beside him, and chase after him, clouded her eyes. Bucky belonged to Nyx.

It was good to have a half-dead heart. It was good to be a creature not meant to live but also not meant to die. She could chase him all her life. Or so she believed.

* * *

**02:00 hours**

The underground halls are silent. Not a trace of life is seen. Loki finds this comical. There’s not a trace of security guarding his entrance, even when someone like him is being held prisoner there.

Mortals. Loki rolled his eyes and carried on to take the same path he’d taken the other night.

This was his amusement for the night, again, detaching himself and wandering the halls like a penitent ghost. Only difference, he attempted not to go too far.

That'd been the problem the other night. He’d wandered too far out and strained himself. The body ache that accompanied him throughout the rest of the evening had been a nightmare. But not something he had not experienced in the past. Pain was second nature.

Nyx never came the past two days, but the food was always there. Figured that dreary conversation they had the other day served her for their investigations. Loki fell himself a fool for allowing himself to be manipulated into falling into her trap.

Nyx was clever. A shame she stood on the other side. Her allies were not the same as his. His only consolation was the fact their conversations had not been monotonous.

Loki promised himself not to fall for it again. But then again, he was nothing more than the puppeteer turned into a puppet for the amusement of others.

Loki wondered as he roamed the main level, if their efforts to get their greedy hands on his plans were truly worth it. How many more lives could they save, if blood of innocents—that served him as merely a sacrifice for his greater good—had already been spilled and smeared in the soil? When would they realize half the world, all those who also ally beside them, are rotten too?

It was better if they not knew.

Loki had to stall. There was nothing left to do but stall. Two days had already passed and he’d been pushed aside. That was no good signal.

He had to find a way to steal the spotlight. Perhaps this night turned fruitful and he found something for his taking. Chances are bleak, however. As not much changed in two days. It was as if this place was left abandoned every night. Had he ever wandered to a museum this way, Loki would have already found five guards.

This time, Loki decided to take another route. Instead of the front hallway, he took the one adjacent to it. This one seemed to take him to the other side of the compound. Judging by the map on the wall, this one led to the living quarters.

_So people do spend the night here._

Oddly enough that tug in his chest pulled him the way he’d chosen. Loki followed it and wondered what exactly was it trying to guide him to. Another reminder of his ailing perhaps. Ugh, his blood boiled whenever he remembered what he saw that night. But then he remembered:

_ Mother said once, detaching from one’s body presented the world with things we could never view with our own eyes before. That which hides from the normal eye can be seen, but one runs the risk of being fooled, as this new plane distorts reality._

Loki clung to her word since that night.

Loki continued to keep strolling, entering offices at times but found nothing amusing. He was close to the quarters, however. Though, the closer he found himself, the more a susurrus he hadn't caught until then was heard. Hushed, as if the unknown strangers wished not to be discovered.

The trickster decided to follow the susurrus instead.

“…please, I don’t want to lose her…” Loki heard the voice of a man as he closed in on a door left ajar. His brows creased at the words muffled by the door. The context was lost in the silence and the door that drowned it.

“Your soul will belong to me, then,” a feminine voice spoke. Soft yet equally threatening.

_Could it be…_

The image of Nyx came to his head as he recognized the timbre of such a voice. Friendly, gentle, but equally manipulative. And that short, red mane of hers. Completely not of his likeness.

Loki stood by the door and peeked inside. Between the shadows, he found a man on his knees. The blue light of the monitor inside painted his face with horror. Tears of anguish and shock rolled down his face as he stared up to a familiar feminine semblance hidden by the shadows.

Loki deduced it was Nyx—although her back was to him and the shadows only created her silhouette. Her face was hidden from him. Little did he know, there was no red mane, no dolled up face like those of a porcelain figurine. Often craved, and sought out by men.

“Wha…no!” Loki heard the man refuse, his face contorting with anger and denial.

“You come to me for help, but refuse the terms…” she spoke. The voice further confirmed Loki, it was Nyx whom he’d found. This would be rather interesting, he thought. Hence, he continued to listen and peer. “A man like you, who warms the bed of his wife and shares it with another in his spare time. A man who sleeps with a whore when his daughter lays in the hospital,” Nyx chuckled.

Shock fell too small of a word to describe the semblance of the man. Loki himself was taken aback. Whatever he was witnessing…he was too caught up to realize he’d stepped into the room and watched from the darkest corner.

“Do you love your daughter?” Nyx asked.

The man breathed in and shook his head rapidly. “She’s my world. I can’t lose her.”

“Then your soul belongs to me, whether you like it or not,” Loki could already imagine that hypocritical smirk of hers. Plump lips curving, eyes crinkling. “A man like you isn’t worthy of the gift of fatherhood. But taking you away would be just as merciless to your daughter as much as you deserve it.”

“So…so you will save her? You will cure her?” His voice trembled. Frightened eyes stared right into hers.

“There is no cure for her illness, nor am I God. But your daughter will live,” Nyx assured. “She will live a long and healthy life. She will be under my protection. And you will be there to see her bloom.”

A shaken smile appeared on the man’s faze. His glassy eyes screamed relief as he glanced down and hiccuped. “Thank you.”

“Make no mistake, I am sparing her life. Not yours,” Nyx warned, to which Loki notice the man only nod and gulp. “Thinking about it, I would love to meet her.”

Loki’s eyes widen. The man did too as he jerked his face in horror.

“Wha…”

“Oh, fear not,” Nyx chuckled, “I wouldn’t hurt a child. I only hurt those who deserve it. I’m not like most monsters.”

Loki continued to stare and think. His mind seemed to fail to grasp the bigger picture.

“I am not to remind you, under no circumstances will you ever tell anyone of our deal,” through the loudness of his mind, Loki managed to hear Nyx warn the man. “Otherwise the consequences will outweigh the compromise we’ve reached."

Loki stared at them, wide-eyed, appalled. His mind was screaming. Thoughts flooded his mind yet he couldn’t grasp a single one. Analyzing became a task he could no longer accomplish in a second. There was so much to process.

But then something struck him. This was no normal deal as he'd been thinking.

“My gods…” he mumbled.

To Loki’s surprise, he watched Nyx freeze and turn her head ever so slightly. “Who’s there?”

Struck by shock, Loki rushed back to the hall.

”I said who's there,” footsteps echoed in the dreadful silence and closed in towards Loki.

Without thinking twice, Loki closed his eyes and forced himself to return to his body. Once he opened them he found himself inside the same cell again.

Light and darkness encompassed him. His eyes lost themselves between his reflection in whom he sought an answer. The ever-present silence rang annoyingly against his ears.

Yet his perplexity now revolved around the sudden fact, the sorceress had been able to hear him. How?

Well...

Of all the notions that swarmed in his mind, Loki clung to his first realization and the last. Two conjoined inklings that took the shape of a striking conclusion.

A one-sided grin formed on the face of the trickster. His reflection returned the gesture. Loki couldn’t wait to see Nyx again and have a chat. But this time he'd be the one doing all the talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sighs* this was fun to write tbh. The next two parts (which I haven't written but I have outlined) are important turning points in this story *smirk*


	9. Dawn of Reality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki finally realizes who Nyx actually is. Angst ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can finally post this chapter that I've been wanting to get to for sooo long ever since I started writing this fic! Things are finally starting to get interesting. Thank you guys for still reading 🥺

> _It is the things you cannot see coming that are strong enough to kill you. _   
_—Jodi Picoult_

Gray clouds mantled the skies of upper New York. A harsh breeze swept through with a prickling touch. Somberness could be felt and savored in the air. The heaviness of it disturbed Nyx.

Things just appeared to go downhill or so she perceived. Glints of the previous night could not be forgotten nor eliminated from her mind. It all was so vivid. Her desire, deep down, that that hallucination had been real. That the one caressing her skin with such devotion wasn’t James but…him.

How sinful yet…thrilling. The urges to confess to Bucky were choking Nyx. But the fact he had no clue what she was referring to when she asked last night had her gulping down the guilt. Nyx found satisfaction at knowing Bucky had been too drowned in lust to have heard the name of another man in her mouth.

Such a man whom she was on her way to visit. Something which would do just enough to feed her imagination. _Or jog more memories she’d continue to mistake as nightmares._

Deep in thought, Nyx stepped into the metal cage, tray in hand, and tried to press the button for the fifth floor below ground. She was about to lean down and press the panel when a low, gravely voice caught her attention.

“Allow me.”

Nyx stood upright, brows slightly arched. Her features softened right then, when she saw golden hair and royal blue, clothed in normal garments. Ah, the prince of Asgard. She had to admit normal clothing suited him.

“Thor!” Nyx greeted and stepped aside.

The blond stepped in. With a soft smile and fingers gracing the metal panel, his head turned to Nyx. “Which floor?”

“Fifth,” Nyx answered, “below ground.”

Thor pressed the button and followed suit to press the button to the floor he was heading towards. In silence, he stepped back and stood beside Nyx.

“Thanks,” she muttered and fell silent right after, much like him.

The two had never been the type to hold a conversation. Come to think of it, Thor and Nyx had never truly conversed from the time she’s been in the team. He’s either been too occupied with royal duties and conversing most of the time with Steve. The two were quite a pair.

Her eyes strayed from the corner of the elevator she’d been starting, to the blond’s reflection on the other side of the doors. A frown painted the features of his face. Tiny wrinkles by his eyes. Dark clouds right under. His lack of sleep was more than evident.

His eyes were lost somewhere and had gained a darker blue. His mind was a mess. Too many thoughts boiled and evaporated in the wake of worry.

“Tough night?”

Thor raised his gaze and stared into her reflection’s eyes. A small smile broke through in an attempt to masquerade his ailing. “I’m afraid there are various tasks that demand my attention.”

“Here?” Nyx couldn’t help to ask.

“Yes,” Thor gestured and clasped his hands in front of him. And she comprehended. The past two days Fury had been drilling everybody. The U.N. was on his “ass” as he’d put it. Not to mention those above him were like children, always growing impatient when things weren’t done when they deemed it so. “On Asgard as well.”

“A prince’s duties never end, I see.”

“No, they don’t” Thor chuckled and lowered his head. As hastily as the conversation was started it was shifted. “Sergeant Barnes is a lucky man,” the blond gestured to the tray.

With arched brows, and lips parted, Nyx couldn’t help but stare at the tray, then at Thor. “I’m not following.”

Thor laughed. His eyes sauntered to his surroundings before they fell again on Nyx. “Contrary to everyone’s belief that certain things go over my head, I see the way you look at him. You look at him the same way as I do to Jane.”

No words fell out of Nyx’s mouth. If she’d ever underestimated Thor, now she realized how wrong she’d been.

“I also know when things are to be kept secret,” Thor remarked. Nyx only stared at him, with a semi-shocked expression. “Your secret is safe with me, lady Nyx. Barnes deserves happiness.”

“Yeah, he does…” Nyx’s eyes strayed away and chuckled, feeling her cheeks burn with the fury of a thousand suns. “But I’m afraid this isn’t for him.”

Thor’s head turned and tilted ever so slightly. The questioning look almost made Nyx giggle.

Her eyes raised and met his. “I’ve learned that humanity should be demonstrated even to those who are for the axe.”

A shadow of sadness and gratitude clouded over Thor for a brief second at the realization. There was no need for Nyx to even mention his brother’s name to understand her message. “Why?”

“We all deserve some kindness, don’t we?” Nyx sunk on her shoulders as the doors slid open. “This is your floor.”

Thor stared out into the hall but did not move to exit the elevator. Those blue sapphires of his lost themselves even more in conflict. “Ummm…actually, do you mind if I come with you?”

Nyx offered the blond an encouraging smile. It was the little she could do after reading his mind. Delivering bad news was never fun.

“Sure.”

Again, Thor and Nyx stood side by side, in silence, and watched the doors close. Nyx created the same illusion that disguised her for Natasha the moment they were one floor away. Not without receiving a questioning look from Thor, however.

“Your brother seems to hate my appearance,” her remark only made Thor grow all the more confused. She then proceeded to explain to him what had happened the first few times she and Loki had encountered.

A shudder ran cold through Thor’s spine although he still couldn’t decipher his brother’s reasoning. There was nothing wrong with Nyx. She was just…a new face even to Thor…

The hall was a never-ending tunnel to Thor. A tunnel from which he was coerced to painstakingly heed his thoughts as they plagued him like ghosts with no end to come soon. The lights all shone brightly and erased his shadow, as the door to pain and remembrance never seemed to come near but remain ever-present before him.

On the contrary, Nyx had strolled this same hall countless times. But this time reaching the door was far too quick than any other time. As if the hall had shortened, the lights had gotten somehow brighter but no less burdensome. The air was heavy. But maybe this was all due to Thor and what was to come.

Nyx stepped inside first, as per Thor’s gesture. Her eyes were quick to spot the trickster pacing around like an anxious feline. The flash of his eyes burned bright in her mind as she tried to disguise her sudden blush. Though her betraying eyes meandered to his figure covered by leather and metal plates. Her hallucination from last night was her only evidence of carnal beauty hiding behind those garments.

“My oh my,” Loki sauntered and stood close to the glass. A toothy grin pulled the edge of his pink lips. His gleaming eyes wandered from Nyx to Thor. The constant thought swarming his mind to do the talk was no more. His focus no longer rested on Nyx. 

“Brought someone along,” Nyx spoke as she placed the tray on the lower compartment and stood back up. “Hope that’s okay with you since you two know each other…quite well.”

“Indeed,” Loki never left eyes from Thor, whose somber mood had only worsened. “At last, you dared to come and talk…_brother_. I must confess I had my bets you’d take longer.”

“Loki,” Thor rasped, tongue-tied and heavy.

“I should give you two some privacy,” Nyx interrupted and turned around.

“NO,” their voices thundered inside the darkened chamber and froze Nyx to her spot. Widened eyes gawked back to the siblings with no words mustered.

Thor’s pleading eyes stared at Nyx. Fright and anxiety shone and screamed against the white light inside the cage. Nyx nodded and decided to stay.

“Don’t think you can leave so soon,” Loki’s voice drew Nyx in. His grin widened. “We have _so_ _much_ to talk about,” grim laughter echoed in the dark. “I’ve had a question wandering my head lately, and I know only you can answer…if it is ever possible to…to trade a soul for a life.”

A sinking feeling settled and weighed on Nyx's stomach. A question floated in her mind like a firefight in the dark. But the possibilities were too small. No. It wasn’t possible.

Nyx camouflaged her perplexity and swallowed it. “I’m not following.”

Loki chuckled airily and clasped his hands behind his back. He turned his attention back to Thor. Not without flashing Nyx a knowing glance. “You were saying, Thor? Oh, yes! How is Jane?”

“I have not come here to talk, Loki.”

“We can both agree we’re way past conversation…”

“Thor, Nyx,” JARVIS interrupted, “you are needed for debriefing.”

Quiet settled in the place like cold water gradually flooding the room until their bodies swam in it and nearly drowned.

Thor more than ever seemed to drown. The words clogged in his throat and let no room for air. And as much as he tried to gain strength to spew the water out…there was no way. He’d just gotten Loki, his little brother back. How could he be the one to send him to hell again?

But he had duties.

His eyes searched for Nyx, who flashed him a wavering look and a nod.

“The Allfather has approved your repatriation,” his eyes struggled to find a speck to focus on. He did not dare to look Loki in the face. “You will face Asgardian justice for your penance. We will part the night after tomorrow’s.”

Thor spun and marched off without a second glance. The tears almost betraying him and falling in the process.

Nyx stood in place, staring at Loki and the way his features hardened and contorted into a million emotions. His mind buzzed and burned with a storm of thoughts Nyx couldn’t discern a single one. Somehow, for reasons Nyx was yet to understand, a knot formed in her throat at the helplessness reflected in his glassy stare. There was a deja vu feel to everything.

“I put word of your collaboration for them to take into consideration,” Nyx bit the inside of her cheek. She felt the necessity to at least find Loki some comfort. Loki said nothing. “I’m gonna miss our conversations.”

If they could even be _considered_ as such.

“I…I have to go,” Nyx frowned. His eyes finally fell onto hers but didn’t say anything. “I’ll see you later...before you go.”

* * *

Silence. There was just silence.

“Like father like son,” the words rolled down his tongue, bitter, barely audible.

Loki felt himself grow hollow. A piece of him was dying. Another piece was growing angry, frustrated. Not for the reasons one might think, however. Loki couldn’t care any less to go back. He’d always made peace with the fact that sooner or later he’d be caught.

No. It wasn’t that.

Loki wasn’t ready. His plans weren’t completed. There was still much work to be done! The vow he’d made once upon a night was yet to be fulfilled!

Loki couldn’t return to Asgard unless his vow was fulfilled.

There had to be a way to delay it. There had to be…

On and on he went again. To and forth. Round and round the same little space, surrounded by the same darkness that never dares to touch him. What good could he do in his confinement? What distraction could he muster when he was close to a man with no power?

His eyes strayed to the camera on the corner.

Minutes, maybe hours had passed him by and he was none the wiser. How could he know that maybe an entire day went to waste? Or that a single minute had just died and he still had time? Trace of time was unmeasurable where he was. Not even the blinking red beside the lens was of any aid. Loki was only reminded of the beating of his heart, and the red that often blinded his eyes.

_There must be something…_

As Loki continued to glare, his body froze in place. The neurons on his brain made synapsis and lighted the only way to find a delay. In the process, Loki cursed himself for being so oblivious. How could have he forgotten!

Loki spun on his heels and stood on the center and sat down. The seal he’d discovered the other day was _just_ weak enough if he stood in the center of it. Hence, why he’d been able to detach himself from his body with ease all along.

In no time Loki found himself marching through the hall just like he’d done in the past. This time with a purpose boiling in his chest. Though he wasn’t surprised to notice the hall so desolate. The stairway was much the same.

The main level, however, flared with life. Gladness overcame Loki as he meandered around unsuspecting rushing agents, and patches of warm light seeping through clear glass. Hope was yet to leave him for the sun.

“Excellent,” Loki continued to wander around, in the search for…even he didn’t know what he searched for. Something useful. Anything, really. Though he couldn’t help but laugh.

How comical that a villain walked amongst the righteous and they had not a clue.

Loki made his way to the second level for a change. All this time he’d never thought to even attempt reaching it. But seeing things were gradually turning against his odds…the worst thing that could happen was to return to his body abruptly.

Much like the main level. The second floor was bubbling with life as well. Now if he could find something useful to delay his extradition…

With no much care of direction, Loki pranced around, eyes searching through the rooms and faces. He turned several corners but found nothing inviting. Offices crammed with papers and rushing agents. Documents of gods knew what. It wasn’t enough for Loki.

He was desperate but picky.

Loki passed through a briefing lounge as a shortcut and as he arrived at the other side of a new hallway, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a door open at the far end as two figures exited. He turned his head, and to his surprise, he found sergeant Barnes in the company of Captain Rogers.

At a mere glance, the two soldiers out of time seemed to act normal. Though as Loki approached, he took notice of a dirty little secret. Lucky them, there were no other prying eyes to see...

Swollen lips. Messy hair. Wrinkled shirts. Discrete pink marks on their necks. Itchy fingers still reaching out for one another. Eyes shimmering with delight and warmth. Nervous smiles like those of young lovers hiding from their parents. How illicit, clandestine.

Loki watched as both lovers finished buttoning and fixing their trousers. Their eyes leaving one another for a moment to keep watch. Loki noticed there were no cameras. There was no doubt in Loki’s mind they were meant to be.

He watched them part the same way, pretending nothing had ever happened. He followed after them, listening to their light banter until they entered a lounge where, to Loki’s surprise, all the heroes lounged around.

He caught sight of his brother sitting by the window, eyes lost and unfocused. Close by he noticed the redhead and was taken aback by the blueness of her eyes. Little did Loki know whom he was watching was not Nyx. Right beside her sat someone whom he could not recognize as she sat on a small couch with her back towards him. All he could see was black locks of wavy hair. Clint and Tony stood by the small bar to the left. The other scientist, sat by himself, book in hand.

Loki stayed by the entrance on a corner where, if he’d been there in flesh, he would not be noticed. From there he took in all the details, listened to their conversation. And brainstormed a way to delay the extradition.

“How’s blondie holding up?” He heard the iron man ask. “I had planned a day of golfing but his rain completely ruined it yesterday."

“Stressed?” The other man said. “I don’t know.”

“He’s been off lately…”

“Have you, dear brother?” Loki murmured and laid eyes on Thor. His finger brushed against his lip as he thought out.

Though his attention was diverted when a man and a little girl passed him by. The attention of the heroes, too, was drawn to the man and the child.

“Jim!” The billionaire cheered. “You haven’t dropped by my lab with the blueprints. And who do we have here? A little engineer? Was bring your child to work day today? Did I forget?”

Loki watched as Stark walked around the bar and greeted the man. An amicable grin painted on his lips as he crouched and greeted the little girl.

“I’ll drop by later today with the blueprints, Mr. Stark,” Loki was appalled to hear the man speak. He recognized his voice. He was the man that made the pact with Nyx. “I brought my daughter with me today. She has a doctor’s appointment later. Mrs. Potts said it was alright with her and with you.” The man’s hands rested on the little girl's shoulder and smiled. “Come on sweetie, say hello to Mr. Stark.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Stark,” her voice was soft, weak. Her thin hand reached to hold Stark’s and Loki couldn’t help but contemplate the little girl in detail.

Dressed in pastel tones of sunshine and turquoise. Blond hair reaching just below the shoulders. Dark circles nestled under her sunken eyes and contrasted with her pale skin. She was awfully thin. There was no splash of life reflected in her. No rosy cheeks. No twinkle of joy. No true smile. Just sadness. And sickness.

A pained grimace clouded over Loki for a brief minute. He continued to listen.

“She asked if we could stop by,” Jim smiled with pursed lips and saddened eyes. “Before…before she…the doctors say she doesn't have much time...” Jim whispered.

“I’m going to heaven,” the little girl said, innocence still pouring from her weak heart as she gleamed. The words of her father not truly registering. Loki deduced she couldn't be any older than five.

Loki’s heart sank at the child's words. Silence fell upon the room and pressed on everybody’s shoulders. But it was broken thanks to an all-too-familiar voice.

“What’s your name little one?”

If it was ever possible to feel his stomach sink and freeze in such a form, Loki would have fainted from the shock and the motion. Fury began to course through.

Rosy cheeks, pink lips, terse skin, a delicate nose…hair as black as the night. And those eyes. How dare she!

But Loki made no move. He couldn't. It was as if he’d been frozen to his place. Loki couldn’t move but only watch and listen.

“My name is Jamie,” the little girl answered.

Loki watched her crouch and smile._ Oh, that smile_…his face contorted.

“A pretty name for a pretty girl like you,” she complimented, to which the child smiled and giggled. “But tell me, why do you say you’re going to heaven, sweetie?”

“Because I’m sick,” the child said and played with her hands. “And there's no cure here.”

Nyx nodded and fell silent for a moment. Though she raised her head again, arched brows, and gleamed. Loki felt himself trapped in what once was a pleasant dream turned into a nightmare he couldn’t wake up from.

“You know…” she reached for her little hand and held it gently. “You’re a strong girl. If you leave, your parents are gonna miss you dearly.”

“I wish I didn’t have to.”

“What if I told you that you don’t have to go to heaven? That there's a cure here?”

“How?” Jamie tilted her head and made a face.

Nyx placed her index finger on her lip in thought. “Well, if you promise me you’ll be a good girl and eat your vegetables, I can make that happen.”

Her little eyes widened with wonder as a smile started to bloom on her face. “Are you a fairy? The kind that grants wishes?”

Nyx chuckled and traced her fingers over Jamie's cold cheek. Her eyes quickly diverted to the father before they focused on hers again. “You could say that, yes. So? Are we gonna be good and eat all our vegetables?”

“Yes!” Jamies cheered and nodded furiously.

“Great!” Nyx’s smile widened.

With a heavy heart, Loki watched as Nyx sat on the floor and moved her hands in circular motions just as a dark cloud began to form. He continued to watch as the cloud took form into a tiny head with pointy ears, four limbs, and a tail. The figure taking form and resembling a pup.

Loki was astonished to see red glowing eyes open on the face of the creature.

“Is that…” Jamie smiled.

“Yes,” she chuckled and watched the creature begin to run around the child as it left a trail of black cloud. “He’ll be your friend. It will always be there for you to protect you from now on.”

“Look! He's trying to get your necklace!” Jamie giggled.

Loki watched the small pup stand on its two paws making the motion to nibble on the pendant dangling from her neck. And for a moment Loki felt the world freeze on its edge as he took in the detail of the necklace.

That necklace…

“That necklace…” of two serpents tangled and biting each other’s tails. “That…”

That was his symbol. No one ever carried that symbol. No one. The only one who ever carried his symbol was…

Loki shook his head. Glassy eyes darted from side to side. He glared at the redhead sitting nearby, then back to the raven-haired. Their eyes were complete contrasts. He realized then that they were not the same person.

Struck by fright Loki stepped back, shaking his head, and almost trespassed the wall. This was a nightmare. Yes. This was a nightmare.

“Wow!” Jamie exclaimed and gasped, her little hands covering her mouth, “it’s changing color!”

Loki jerked his head back in the direction of the child, eyes open wide as he witnessed the proof of this so-called nightmare becoming a reality. The stone changed. From a green stone to pure silver.

_Oh, my gods…_

The world lost its shape. There was no more silence. The canvas was no longer clear but smeared and tarnished. It all spiraled before Loki as he tried to stagger out. The balance he’d found was no more in his sea of woes. Once again the tempest he’d quieted roared.

Loki felt himself float as he roamed with no direction. Like a zombie, he moved about with a suffocating mind. “Rúna,” her name fell from his mouth in a whisper, shaky and still bittersweet. But no longer heavy and heartbreaking.

_Oh, gods…_

His eyes darted to the changing skies right in front. The trees from afar swayed and danced carefree. The skies were draped by new clouds. Yet the thought couldn’t be registered, understood. There was only white noise and her jovial loving eyes and that smile that pulled him to his knees. His broken mind couldn’t allow him to see. But there was proof. There was proof!

A tear rolled down his cheek. Loki didn’t know whether to smile or weep. He closed his eyes and allowed his head to fall and tried to suppress the desire to scream. Anger all of a sudden was all he could feel.

No, it couldn’t be real.

Loki opened his eyes and found himself back in the crystal cell. Her smile still lingered in his head. The change of green to silver haunted him and shook him to the core. And it dawned on him then…

As if he’d been zapped his hands clutched his chest and tried ripping the leather. His hands scampered until they found the hidden pocket by his heart and reached inside. With gentleness, he held in his open palm a black stone in the form of a feather. With renowned hope, he contemplated the small pendant shift from black stone to silver. Just like his symbol did.

Then and only then did Loki’s doubts died away and the tears welled in his eyes and fell. And he was remembered of what the love of his life had said to him so long ago:

_“How will I know that I’ve found you, dear?”_

_ “I will always carry you with me. And I will always be with you. If we ever lose our paths and find each other again but have doubts…just watch the stones. If they turn to silver, then you’ll know you’ve found me. And I will know that I’ve found you.”_

She was alive. His finger traced over the coolness of the silver feather. Another tear rolled down his cheek. “Why did it take you so long, my love?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry early Christmas loves!!!


	10. The Tragedy of Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki tries to grasp the sudden news, and runs to Nyx, Rúna, rather.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me? posting in less than 24 hours after I posted the previous chapter? It's just as unlikely as you believe. But there is a possibility :D

It seemed a bad dream…something unreal.

Loki was livid. Cold. Cold as if a thousand northern winds swept through him and stole his soul. His eyes had lost themselves, his mind lost all notion. No more did he know how long he’d been staring at the blackness of the void.

The chains remained. As if the burden of Atlas weighed on his veins, Loki watched only his reflection unable to seek her. He was still powerless. Unable to escape his cage.

But his heart raced, brazen and crazed.

“Alive,” his eyes never drifted from the black. The six-lettered word waltzed sweetly in his mouth but faded in the air once he spoke it.

Yes. He’d witnessed it. With his own eyes. Alive!

Yet the voices of his monsters clawed deep into his bones. Disbelief poisoned his blood. And the words of the murdered echoed:

_“Your punishment will be to carry the knowledge that your beloved died by the hands of your vanity, for the sole purpose of mending your sins. To see her in your sleep, and have her wither by the dawn of reality. That is my verdict.”_

No.

Loki closed his tear-stained eyes and clenched his jaw, knuckles white and trembling from fisting his hands. The little feather, now silver, was tightly trapped in between his palm. He knew what he saw. It was all real. He had his evidence.

There was no more dawn.

Swallowing tears, Loki raised his gaze to the glass. He reminded himself he could not mourn nor rejoice when there were eyes. But his knees almost gave in when her ghost emerged in place of his reflection cast by his imagination. With longing eyes, he admired her face, her eyes, her smile, her hands. Just like how he’d seen her today. And as if there was the possibility to feel the warmth of her cheek under his fingertip, Loki reached out but only felt the coldness of the glass sting him.

His hand slid down the glass and hung limp on his side.

Loki found comfort on the little silver feather cradled inside his left palm and raised his head only to find crimson eyes staring back, but different features and a different complexion.

“It’s starting to become a bad habit of yours to starve yourself,” goosebumps trailed down Loki’s spine at the pitch of her voice. His heart froze then began to race with such a force his hands began to shake. Gosh was he struck with melancholy after listening to those same words for the first time in so long…

_ The studio laid under a sea of papers. Notes, scraps, maps, diaries, old leathered books wide open with ancient enchantments on display laid scattered about. Their secrets and tales idling to be read and gathered, though, at the moment, the only eyes that read them were those of the silent moon, peaking from the window._

_ The prince was too occupied. Focused. He’d read what was necessary from them._

_ The light of a single levitating orb lighted the desk of the prince._

_ Furrowed brows slowly relaxing, fatigued eyes glancing over a book while his hand made quick work of the writing utensil over the blank paper. A soft gleam overcame his features and hummed. The smell of the air tickled his nose._

_ It was delightful. Soothing. The smell of home._

_ And her tone of voice had not gone unnoticed; concerned but evermore tender._

_ She posed behind him on the sea of papers that enraptured the floor. Tray on hand with an array of mouth-watering delights. Her stern eyes falling heavy on the back of his forgetful husband._

_ “And here I thought no longer being a prince meant no more royal paperwork,” she pouted. “You’ve spent an eternity in here.”_

_ The raven-haired turned around, with a smile that only grew bigger as his eyes laid over her before they landed on the tray of delicious delicacies. His stomach roared. “No longer being a prince means more time to continue my research!” He beamed and made space for the tray to be placed on the desk. Like an eager child, he reached for a piece of fruit tasting honeysuckle sweetness. “Besides, it has only been two days, love.”_

_ Sugar gray and crimson stared at him sternly. “Two days that I’ve had to remind you, or bring you nourishment myself,” she chided and stole a piece of fruit while she sat on the edge of the desk. Her eyes closed and she hummed at the sweet taste. “Always so forgetful to love yourself a little, Loki.”_

_ Loki gestured, hand over his chest, seeming hurt though it all was nothing but a pretense. Rarely were the times Rúna called him by his name. “Loki?” He chewed the last bit and swallowed. “Rúna?”_

_ Her eyes crinkled and twinkled delightful humor much like her sweet smile as she took another piece of food and placed it on his awaiting mouth. “All I have to say, love, it’s starting to become a bad habit of yours to starve yourself, ” she remarked again._

“How lucky I must be to have you remind me,” the same words he’d told Rúna that time fell out of his mouth while his eyes laid on her figure under that disguise. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he tried to rid himself of the sudden lump of emotions and felt tears burn the corner of his eyes.

Loki cursed himself for being an idiot. He should’ve known that red hair, that smile, those little details....it was all a facade.

“Not for long, I fear,” There was a storm of emotions coming to life within him, Nyx couldn’t help but feel her dying heart heavy and overwhelmed. So vivid and heavy were the emotions she perceived, she feigned this time from poking inside his mind or trying any tricks. “Will you at least try to remember when you’re gone?” The question flew out of her mouth by the time she realized it or even had the time to regret it.

But the question did not register in Loki’s head nor did her previous response. No. Nothing did. Loki was too caught up. The coldness still hadn’t lifted nor the lump did. This felt like a dream. A dream he feared would cease. But as he glanced down, from her eyes to her mouth that wasn’t her mouth, past her chin, he found the silver sigil. His sigil no longer a fine green stone.

This wasn’t a dream. Yet Loki could still perceive the cold dread within him, drowning him. That disguise was drowning him.

“Lift the illusion” the words floated low and timid; though, not timid enough to seem a question.

There was only silence. Silence and a sinking, cold feeling. It took a minute for Nyx to collect herself. “What illusion, Loki? Are you not seeing me as I am right now?”

A half-smile colored his face and tilted his head. Even with a disguise, he could see the lie in her eyes. He must’ve been so blinded with denial before to not have seen it.

Resigned, Nyx exhaled and let the illusion vanish and stood as she truly was before his marveling stare.

It took Loki great strength to not fall to his knees and weep just like a lost dog would fall and worship its god after finding it. He just stood there, contemplating her, his Rúna, drowning under a million unspoken confessions and words that now wished to be pronounced loud and never shut out.

“You’re just as beautiful as I remember you to be,” his voice was a susurrus. Loki felt the lump grow in his throat evermore. Tears burned his eyes and almost threatened to fall. Her face distorted and blurred. “I…I missed you so much.”

Confusion fell short, perplexity was nothing compared to the questions and thoughts that circled Nyx’s mind. She told herself what she heard him say under his breath, in the quietest broken whisper was not what he meant. The message distorted as it crossed to her end. And possibly, Loki was hallucinating.

Yes. She’d drained his strength for so long, suppressed and sucked his power like a leech would suck on supple flesh…

But Nyx only stood frozen in place, overwhelmed herself as his emotions grew and seeped within her pores. She wished to speak but she couldn’t find her voice. There was no way to comprehend why she was suddenly overcome with the desire to reach out to him. To cup his cheek and say it all will be okay.

Instead, she reminded herself how susceptible to emotion she could become at some points._“Spend your time around humans and you’ll become one,” _father warned once.

Oh, but if she could only _remember _if she only _knew…_it would all make sense.A sad thing she didn’t and mistook it for susceptibility.

“Try to eat,” Nyx said with a broken voice, almost pleading as she fidgeted with the silver pendant. “Even if it’s just a little. But…I…I must go now.”

Nyx glanced at his twinkling eyes and the sudden desperation in them, then to his alabaster skin now healed and had no more contusions and wounds.

“Wait,” Loki stepped closer to the glass.

_If I had only found you sooner than I found Bucky…maybe I would have fallen for you. _The wild thought echoed in her mind and blamed it on how vivid and overwhelming his emotions were on her as she turned around.

A black cloud enclosed her and became one with it as it moved through the blackness of the room and disappeared.

“Wait!”

* * *

Love.

The most beautiful of feelings life could ever bestow upon the living. The opportunity to experience it with the inevitable risk of falling apart when you find someone and believe they’ll be the one. Lucky are the few who experience it only once without falling apart. The most beautiful bliss. Yet once is more than enough, as they’ve found their other half. The true compliment to their soul, to their heart.

Compassion.

One of God’s greatest gifts to his children, or so believers like to think. The ability to feel in more ways than just a simple touch. It is what makes us, _us_. Human. Rationalize, empathize with the world, and feel. Bleed and hurt the suffering of others without having to truly bleed and be wounded.

It truly boils down to those two virtues. Any other virtues and principles, any other feelings and reasons to be, are rooted from those two.

The more Nyx spent her time around God’s creation, the more she believed this, and the more she bled and felt. In two days she had bled and felt more than she’d ever done in five hundred years give or take.

Happiness to be beside the one she believed to be the one for her soul. Revulsion for a man who deserved naught the virtue of fatherhood. Compassion and love for a young soul that would’ve been unjustly diminished had she not the power to intervene. Anger, pity, and compassion for a prisoner that she now came to realize mourned and was driven by that unknown loss.

Though Nyx never actually dared to pry in Loki’s mind to truly find the reasons behind his desire for chaos. For his mourning. She never dwelled deep in his memories and found herself nor her real name, nor the life they shared, nor the tragedy of their love.

The tragedy of love…

The tap of soles against the cold tiles rippled in the empty halls of the compound. The pressure and overwhelm in her heart still lingered and wreaked havoc in her head. And rarely were the times she felt exhaustion overcome her and cling to her like the heaviest of shackles around her body. But the events that preceded the day had worn Nyx to no end.

She wonders how Thor managed to remain standing with the weight of the world on his shoulders.

_Poor Atlas, _she thought.

And as she made her way to her living quarter, alone and with no desire to have company…

“Rúna!” A voice called, rising pleadingly through the silence, startling the girl out of her mind and back to reality.

Frozen in place, something in Nyx’s mind clicked. A distant familiarity bloomed like the soft caress of the ocean reaching out to the shore. Yet withering back from the sand and into the blackness of the foggy night that reigned in her mind.

The memories still castaway in the ocean with no current to bring them ashore.

“I know you can hear me,” she heard the voice again, sounding like the voice of Loki, the more she thought about it. “Please.”

Curiosity-driven, Nyx turned around, eyes widening as a cold tremor rushed through her body. “How…how how did you…?”

He wasn’t supposed to be there. Loki was supposed to be downstairs.

Like a gaping fish, Nyx stared at the pagan god step closer just as she stepped backward alarmed. Melancholy and joy fought his foggy stare, but more than anything Nyx saw hurt in them to her see her back away.

Though the more she peered at him, the more she noticed how paler he seemed and…transparent? Like a ghost manifesting from the other world with tasks yet to be fulfilled to reach eternity. It was impressive.

Nyx found herself suddenly drawn in awe. “How?” Her hand reached out to touch his cheek. His eyes closed and leaned into her touch but her hand passed right through him. Only a faint coolness lingered on her palm as she slowly turned it.

And all Loki felt, he felt nothing. Only renewing heartache as he opened his eyes and saw her hand lower. “He said you would never come back,” a grimace cast shadows over his ghastly face as he reached out to stroke her cheek. But Nyx felt nothing but a soft, cold breeze. “And I believed you would never come back to me though I dreamed of it every night since you left my arms. I dreamed of it. I dreamed of this since you ceased to haunt my mind…I’ve missed you so much, Rúna.”

“What?” Nyx tilted her head unable to make sense of anything the raven-haired said. The confession, or whatever it was had her perplexed and raised new questions that had her forgetting how on earth, was Loki standing in front of her. “I don’t understand. Who’s…who’s Rúna?”

“What…?” A nervous chuckle faintly raised through the silence. Dread crept through Loki while his eyes searched her face. To his horror, there was no sign of a single lie but pure confusion and…fear? “Darling, do you not remember?”

The question was redundant, senseless. Loki knew the answer. It was clear. Clear as day but he refused to believe it. The signs were there even before he realized he was standing right in front of her.

And to Nyx, the question was no more than just more words spoken with context she knew very little of. Words that just made her grow unreasonably unsettled. Poor thing.

“I…”

“Was wonderin’ where you’d gone,” the familiar baritone of Bucky’s voice broke the silence and made Nyx squeak and turn away as the built figure of the soldier came to view. “Where’ve you been, sugar?”

A quick smile plastered on Nyx’s face to conceal the nerves and pretend Loki wasn’t there, “Uhh, just walking around, trying to think where _you’d_ gone,” Nyx allowed herself to be pulled close to his chest. That scent of cinnamon and apples of his had her smile widening. Yet the storm in her mind still reigned loud and Loki’s presence could still be felt.

“Well, I’m here,” Bucky smirked and kept his soft grip on her waist. “Why don’t we watch that show Nat’s been talking to you about?”

Loki stood in the background, in silence, unable to even move. Reality slapped him across the face. Disdain and anger clouded his eyes. If he was seeking an answer to the naive questions he’d asked. Well, the answers were there.

A nervous glance from her love. A true smile directed to the sergeant on not him. All those things he’d witnessed the other nights…how bittersweet. And now he watched her walk away, she, more than happy to have fled.

“You don’t remember who I am, do you,” the words were numbing. The deadliest of poisons apt to destroy a revived heart.

Nyx knew and believed love and compassion were the two seeds from which life gained its meaning. As much as there was truth in it, she knew not what Loki did:

Love, just like compassion, goes hand in hand with tragedy.

The tragedy of love is beauty as it is grace. It is sublime. It is heartache and false hopes. A storm coming ashore and washing it all away. A soft kiss, a gentle touch. The pieces of the puzzle, of a lover’s life, left scattered and heartbroken. It is Romeo and Juliet. Petter Pan and Wendy. That is the tragedy of love. At least the one we know, and the one that is ever-present in Loki’s soul.

But the tragedy of _their_ love?

They loved with a fervor of a thousand suns. Now, one remembers and knows, but the other…the other does not.

“You don’t remember me.”

> _When you come back you will not be you. And I may not be I. _   
_—E.M. Forster_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas my luvs


	11. Rise of The Present Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Key chapter**There's only one night left before Loki is taken back to Asgard. However, the team leaves overnight for a mission that shouldn't take more than a couple of hours, give or take. Nyx is left behind, as per Captain's orders. She's the only one this night in the compound, aside from Loki, of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last update of the year, but not the final one of this wip. I am thankful and overjoyed for all those who've read and waited patiently for me to update. I know I take forever. Now, it'll take me a while to update again bc I still have to outline what will take place beyond this key chapter. Mind you I have a few ideas but they're all over the place.

> _“The bitterest tears shed over graves are for words left unsaid and deeds left undone.” _
> 
>   
_—Harriet Beecher Stowe_

It’s a starlit night in the Asgardian realm. Galaxies paint the blackness of space in watercolors shades of beauty and fantasy. Silhouetted moons loom in the distance like phantoms and tower the oblivious city of gold.

The city is quiet. The palace is dormant. And so is the outer shore, where the water falls and becomes stardust.

It’s a glorious scenery. Glimpsing the water cascade down, cheat the laws of man, and become diminutive specs of diamonds that float in the null of space before they wither away. Heimdall finds joy in this concurrence whenever he bids his eyes away from the worlds, even if it’s for a brief second.

The god with eyes of sweet honey is not the one to express himself often. He doesn’t have to. His eyes speak for him, they’re as expressive and graceful as those of a feline. And he’s alone most of his time, exiled without having been exiled to watch and guard. He’s duty-bound. But surely the magnificence of space and the waterfalls carve a heartwarming smile on his face.

But there’s a witness tonight. A witness who observes in his reflection, while he gazes out to the night, the beautiful smile that has gone unnoticed by the world. And this witness knows the reasons for his joy.

Tonight Heimdall is not alone.

“Does he know?”

He’s taken by surprise. The voice of her majesty rings with hope and the smile on her face is more than obvious although he can’t see it. “Yes…” he responds. Though his smile wavers ever so slightly. “But she does not remember.”

Heimdall sees the trickster, his old friend, standing with a hardened glare on his face inside the glass cage. The same way his illusion had done the night after her death. A day had risen and fallen in the mortal realm all while Loki waited, and all while the night began to wither away in the golden realm. Loki waited, but she never came after what occurred in the hallway.

His eyes astray from Loki and focused on the reflection of her majesty. An anguished frown stalks her features and fidgets with her fingers the same way the young Odinson once did.

“Patience is a virtue he knows well,” is the only thing Frigga says and attempts to smile, to believe it herself. But her son is broken. She knows this well. “In time, she’ll remember.”

“She believes to love the other mortal,” Heimdall remarks.

“Cast enough illusions when you’re alone, when you’re a ghost to the world you want to be a part of,” the queen steps closer to the window where the golden-eyed stands near. She lets her awaiting gaze wander through the stars of the fading night. “And soon you find yourself living a delusion that never dies.”

“She’s been having nightmares,” Heimdall recalls the nights he watched Nyx writhe and wake soaked in dread. “What of, I know not, I’m afraid.”

The golden queen nods and continues to stare out into the void. Nerves run rampant through her veins and claw at her heart.

And Heimdall can’t help but sense she’s waiting for something. Though he doesn’t question it.

“I’d like you to keep your watch on Thor,” she asks, “I need to know where he is and where he will be. Loki will soon arrive, disregarding him for a while will do no harm.”

Heimdall stares at the queen and nods. She knows something he does not. “What shall I say if the Allfather wishes to know of Loki?”

“Has he _ever_ left his cell?” Frigga smiles courteous and looks at the watcher.

Technically…“No.”

“Then, Loki is in his cell waiting for extradition,” she answers, “I doubt anything will change,” she then adds.

“What if he questions your reasons for your visit so late at night?”

The queen sighs though her smile doesn’t fade. Her eyes shine bright with hope as she looks at the watcher. “I have grown quite fond of the universe, and what a better way to admire it than in the only place close to it?” The light laugh that flutters in the air brings a ray of sunshine to the grimness the realm seems to never recover from. “But, you see, Heimdall dear, I was never here.”

The watcher of worlds stood frozen as he witnessed the queen wither into stardust that soon, too, disappeared. Her illusion, gone without a trace of evidence but a faint knowing smile on his face. He understood now from whom Loki learned his tricks. Frigga and Loki were almost a mirror of one another.

Like mother like son.

Heimdall sighs and returns his eyes to the starry black night, though his attention is back in the mortal realm. He watches over Loki one last time before he diverts his eyes and no longer sees the prince, and focuses on the blond prince who flies along with the heroes to a location outside the continent.

Meanwhile, Loki remains trapped and troubled. Heartache spreads through him brazen than ever and numbs everything. It’s paralyzing. It’s poison and he’s growing hollow, more so than he already was. The memory in his mind is the snake that has trapped him frozen and is breaking him further like a mad titan.

He didn’t lose Rúna once but twice. The love of his life doesn’t remember anything at all. And the greatest tragedy of all…he lost her to another man.

It’s a hard pill to swallow.

Loki writhes and crawls under his skin at this. Barnes is a man who could no longer be called a man. A broken _thing_, scum incarnate he’d contributed to destroying and torture. Truly, Loki attempts to find comfort in the latter but it’s not enough. Instead, he’s reminded again of how loose ends should always be taken care of.

Argh, Barnes!

The trickster’s knuckles crack. The delicate silver feather squirms under his iron grip and he scowls at the void surrounding him. Fury’s consumed him whole. It’s all he knows now but he doesn’t see red. Not anymore. He sees everything as it is. The truth of things.

It’s bittersweet. But all is not lost, yet, and Loki is aware, despite his anger blinding the meek ray of hope that exists. Loki will strike. He will not leave this realm.

Not alone.

Refuging in his anger, his hatred, the seething lust for royal blood had been great to guide himself when he was lost. But now he knows what must be done. Loki must regain the other half of his soul.

It’s a waiting game now.

Loki turns away from the glass and glances at the camera. His fingers fiddle with the cold, silver feather. He can hear noise in the distance but reckons nothing of it.

His mind is plagued with Rúna. His oblivious fallen angel with wonder in her eyes. She remained untouched by time. Deep down he attempts not to blame her for any of it. Regardless, it's difficult.

It was stupid of Loki to still hope she’d come as she’d assured. But the distant noise growing near made Loki cling to that slight glimmer of hope.

And his heart raced evermore when the familiar whoosh of the door sliding rose through the silence. His desperate eyes peered to the surrounding blackness and searched for his angel, not realizing that the usual creeping light of the hallway’s gone. There’s just darkness.

Loki doesn’t hear anything. But there is a presence.

He continues to watch expectantly for her face to appear. To his discontent, it is not her face that he begins to see surfacing out of the shadows. Loki doesn’t see her eyes, her lips, nor her hair, or that smile that always made him weak.

It is rather someone of long braided hair that is as white as the snow, that comes to view, with eyes as obscure as the night herself. Marvel falls short to describe how overcome the trickster is to see such a face.

It is not whom he had ever expected and yearned to see, but he’s more than pleased. Yes, it’s pleasing to see his right hand and ally again.

“Ava,” he grins, briefly forgetting his current ailing. “I must say I am more than pleased to see you again.”

The dark elf chuckles airily and strides around the crystal cage to the door of such. There, her fingers dance over the panel, and the doors to freedom slide open with ease. “I am just as pleased, fallen prince. Didn’t think I’d leave you to rot, did you?” her grin widens. Her eyes shine pleasantly.

Loki stands before his greatest ally and friend. As severe as the situation is, he can’t help but think for a moment the time he was freed from Asgardian bounds. Ava was the one to gift him back a small piece of all that he’d lost.

“Now why would I think that?” Loki grins and steps out of the crystal cage. An air of victory welcomes him once he crosses to the side of freedom. He glances to Ava with glee. “There’s much to be done, dear friend.”

* * *

_The world has acquired a tint of gold. It’s glamorous, warm. It surely disguises the darkness that lurks about and follows. Nyx doesn’t know where she is, or how she’s arrived here. But somehow she’s found herself wandering about, marveling about the beauty of everything._

_ Golden walls raise like menacing titans accompanied by their pillars and surround her. The distant fires lighting the view, dance and crackle along with their abstract reflections from the walls. They’re the only ones disturbing the remarkable silence. Yet they are the ones to clear her eyes from the blur that fogs them._

_ The picture becomes clearer. The details surface and linger. Ancient carvings on the walls come to view and adorn the walls. Delicate fabrics, almost transparent drape from the pillars. The tint of gold in them is just as visible._

_ She walks through the imposing pillars and admires the openness she finds. It’s a spacious chamber and a cold breeze caresses her. It’s glorious. Though as she turns around, hoping to take in and memorize it all, she freezes once her eyes fall on a golden altar._

_ Ancient carvings surround it in the same manner. But it is not the delicate arrays that have her out of breath, face paled and painted with confusion. It’s rather who is laying on that ominous altar, and who is weeping over the body, that takes her breath away._

_ “What…?” Nyx sees herself. An exact copy of herself laying on that altar with such regal elegance while a stranger weeps over her body. It’s almost as if she’s sleeping, placidly resting from a slumber that is all but temporary._

_ Peace is reflected in her features. There’s not a single sign, not a single crinkle, or furrowed brow that indicates anything but horrid calmness. Nyx’s hand raises to her cheek as she sees reflected on that sleeping version of her, that there’s no color but stale paleness. A ghost in the making._

_ It’s horrible, dreadful to the point she’s shaken to the core. And she finds herself shaking her head, failing to breathe in enough oxygen to rationalize what’s taking place before her eyes._

_ “So it is true,” she hears the individual rasp, trembling hand caressing her abdomen. A sinking feeling settles in her chest as the face of the unknown individual clear from the haze. Nyx freezes in place, appalled._

_ “Loki,” his name falls from her mouth, out of breath. But he doesn’t seem to hear her. And she continues to gawk his motions, the delicate manner in which his hands caresses her abdomen. Unconsciously, she brushes over her abdomen and feels what she is witnessing on that sleeping version of her._

_ A small bump._

_ Wide-eyed, she glares away from the scene and to her stomach and finds not a bump but a child she’s holding. Placidly sleeping in her arms, tender features of innocence only a new soul carries. Skin as soft as a cloud, and warm as a loving kiss._

_ Confusion is too small of a word. Yet there is a fondness that blooms in Nyx’s chest as she contemplates the child’s sleeping face. In the same manner, nostalgia seems to creep in as well. And a smile forms on her face._

_ The scene she was just witnessing lays forgotten and blurs away. Though she eyes where it used to be but only finds Loki standing beside her. His hand lays on her middle as he glances down at the little one. Still smiling she brings the child closer to her until their foreheads are pressed and she feels Loki embracing them._

_ It is only then that Nyx closes her eyes and begins to hum a lullaby. Slow and soothing, even to her and begins to hear the trickster hum in unison as she begins to find herself immersed in it. Though the tune grows distant until it can no longer be heard. Until the silence itself becomes too loud that Nyx finds herself disturbed by it and opens her eyes…_

Darkness is all she finds. Quietude still prevails. Shadows and silhouettes begin to present themselves as the scenes and colors she’d witnessed fade from her eyes and seek refuge in her mind. But even in her mind, the scenes of her dream begin to blur at the pace of the moon drifting through the night.

“Hmmm,” she groans, eyes moving about as she remains frozen in bed. As she waits for her body to slowly wake. This time disorientation does not plague her. Nyx knows where she is. And it doesn’t take long for her to realize she’s curled up and clutching her stomach.

A cool breeze seeps inside and passes by gracing her legs. She frowns at this, Nyx could have sworn she’d closed the balcony door. And if not, JARVIS would have closed it by now.

Groggy and still exhausted, Nyx rolls on the mattress and faces the direction of the balcony. She raises herself and squints, though it takes her a few blinks to discern the silhouette of the curtains waltzing.

_Odd. The door’s open._

“JARVIS, how’s the mission going?” Nyx calls to the A.I.

To her perplexity, there’s no answer.

“JARVIS?”

Silence still reigns. Nyx falls again to the mattress, head buried in the plush duvet. Bucky’s cologne lingers in the fabrics and Nyx lazily smiles as she begins to feel a presence. It’s almost as if Bucky’s still there, beside her.

Though the presence feels colder and heavier compared to how she feels Bucky’s. Goosebumps trail down her spine. She convinces herself is the cold from outside that sparks it.

With a groan, Nyx sits up then stands and drags her feet to the open balcony. Her eyes wander but see very little. It’s a starless, moonless twilight. By far the most silent of them all. There’s not a single noise. So much so, Nyx can hear her own breathing, her own tottering heart, and…someone else’s racing heart.

Another…heart.

It takes Nyx a second to comprehend but it is too late then. A hand clasps on her mouth and an arm slithers around her middle and presses her flush to a cold, harsh body. She thrashes and attempts to pull the hand on her mouth away to no avail.

Nyx freezes in place, wide-eyed as she feels the unknown’s nose nuzzle on her neck, breathing in her scent and hum delighted. Her muscles begin to grow numb and heavy. And so do her eyelids. The balcony, what she’s been staring at all along, begins to blur.

“I can’t leave without you,” he murmurs, accentuated voice resembling a purr. “Not after I’ve found you.” A soft kiss is peppered on her cheek then on her jaw and her neck. “Not after the hell your death brought upon me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish you all a happy and prosperous new year!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading! It is deeply appreciated!  



End file.
